


A Blood Orange is Half the Sun

by Arcis



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: But you'll love them, Everyone loves a dragon, F/M, Hold on it's gonna be a wild ride, IT'S LONG, Kilgharrah shows up, M/M, So many OCs, Sorry guys, this wasn't supposed to be long, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:34:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 54,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcis/pseuds/Arcis
Summary: Time without food will hurt, but it won’t kill. Time without water will hurt, and it will kill too. Gwen, knew, surely, she was running out of time.Banished. Friendless. Alone. Gwen must rebuild a life in the wake of losing the only one she’s ever known. She’s already on the thin edge of survival when a scream in a forest changes everything.





	1. Black Water Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys:) This story was supposed to be short and cute. It's no longer short. I'll try to deliver on the cute. Eventually. Our tale begins after Arthur banishes Gwen from Camelot, but beyond that the show's plot gets treated like a very loose suggestion. 
> 
> I hope you like reading this as much as I liked writing it. This story is edited by yours truly, so bear with any mistakes I make. 
> 
> And now, without further ado, let's begin:

Time without food will hurt, but it won’t kill. Time without water will hurt, and it will kill too. Gwen, knew, surely, she was running out of time.

All she could see was the fire.

Hunting, haunting, roaring around her. A cornea of light. Embers burning against her eyelids, boring holes through her skin. 

Make it stop. Make it stop.

Breathe. She couldn’t … couldn’t breathe. Like acid, like lemon juice coating her lungs. The smoke. Every inhale hurt. Screaming, her chest kept screaming. 

She ran. She ran. Then stumbled. Falling. Face into the dirt. Scrambling up, pushing so hard her nails shattered. Blood, an immaterial color in this throbbing, orange haze.

She ran. She ran. Up and up. She ran. Her body became bands of heat walls of light pillars of fire. She burned. She burned.

Reaching forward, fingers in supplication. The brambles the branches, how they cut how they stung. Blood at the boiling point. Let me be, please gods, let me go. 

She ran. She ran. Up. Up.

No world existed beyond the rushing roar, the concussive whoomp cracking her in head in. She could not tell. Could not know. What lines. What lines exist between the burning and the body?

None. Nothing. 

She ran.

She stumbled, fell, and gasped.

Trees. Laying in the dirt, she witnessed trees. Swimming. Floating through water. Was anything, she watched this wavering world, real?

The fire raged onward. Gwen pulled her body up. And ran. And ran. And stumbled. And fell. Now dragging her down. Her body. Failing. Failing her. Raw, sliced open by flame, slaughter and the offering. 

The fire shall eat you alive. Inch by inch. Finger by finger. Bone by bone. 

\+ + + 

Father.

Gwen whispered the word. Scared to her, a benediction. It echoed inside the quiet house. She tried not to hear that, the emptiness. 

Father. She murmured, burying her face in the blankets. In the indigo and vermilion and amber. Her father’s blankets. The ones he bought to make her happy. Gwen cradled them tight. He just wanted to make her happy.

A sob, muffled by a hand. 

It echoed anyway. 

So much had to be left behind. So much. She placed the blankets on the pile before she lost it, before she threw them against the wall, before she screamed. 

Biting down on that scream, Gwen gently laid the blankets on the pile. 

So much could not go with her.

Pots. Pans. Plates. Forks. Knives. Spoons. Cups. Mugs. Vases. Flowers. Candles. Candle holders. Curtains. Bedding. Pillows. Clothes. Shoes. Blankets. 

Four walls. One roof. Her home.

Flick, flick, her fingers brushed over every divet in the wood. Each bump and crevice and crack. Gwen would know these walls with her eyes closed, by sense of smell alone. Even after decades, after centuries, she would know these walls. Tears came then, thin fractals. Reflecting and refracting everything everything.

Home. Gwen braced her body against it and tried to suck in air. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

One day, you can remember.

One day.

All that night, Gwen scrounged. Hunted, fingers searching under every jar, behind every piece of furniture for a spare coin, some scrap of change, anything. She needed anything. 

Please. 

At times though, her guard would slip and the truth would crash down. Oh gods. It pummeled her, beat her, cracked her ribs into pieces on the floor. Broke her down. What had she done? Where would she go? How could she move on?

What had she done?

Shattered everything everything. 

Gwen closed her eyes, pressed her knees to her chest to her arms to her palms to her eyes. Still, the truth leaked in. The weight of Lancelot in her arms as she kissed him. The longing for him, longing without beginning or end or origin. Wanton. Senseless. 

Arthur’s face. She whimpered. Arthur’s face. Like she had stabbed him, that’s how he looked. Like she had walked up and put a knife through his stomach. 

And she had, she had, she had. 

There would be no wedding. No celebrations. No happily ever after. 

She had kissed Lancelot and broken Arthur. Shattered her own life. Everything everything.

She had kissed Lancelot and broken Arthur. Gwen deserved it all. The broken engagement. The banishment. She whimpered on the floor and she deserved it all.

Everything everything. 

Shove it out. Shove it out. Shove it out. Gwen gasped for breath. Shove it out. Scream tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. When you can. 

Shove it out.

The mantle clock kept up a tick tick tick. 

Gwen grew desperate, searching corners she already looked through. Searched them again. For a spare coin. For anything. 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Grief beat her. Flayed her. Left her in thin strands, like smoke. 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She needed money. She had no money. She needed to survive. She had no way to survive. No way. No way. No way. 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Just breathe. Just inhale in … and exhale out. In and out. That’s how. That’s how you’ll survive. 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Arthur would come. Arthur would realize she had made a mistake. Arthur would forgive her. He would come. 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Arthur never came.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She deserved every second of this.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Breathe. Hold on. Dig in. Breathe. Hold on. Dig in. 

Tick. 

Tick. 

Tock.

Dawn came, pale as a peach. The worst could happen now, and there was a relief in that. 

Time to go. Fasten your cloak. Pick up your rucksack and tighten the straps. Open the door. Close it. Don’t bother to lock it behind you. 

Take one step, then another. Forward. At least try. 

The air felt so cold and sharp and chill. It smelled of wet grass and cows. In the distance, roosters crowed. Gwen blinked once, twice, as fast as she could. Because this was any morning, every morning of her life. Because … maybe if she blinked fast enough, everything would reset, everything would be different.

Anything, everything. 

She could not walk. Could not move. Could not make herself go forward. On the road out. Soon – if she stayed – soon immobility would become her death warrant. Soon. But she could not move.

In the end, Merlin was a mercy. Gwen saw him standing there. Just standing. Staring at her. Gwen could not bear it. Could not endure it. The weight of his eyes ached more than the weight of leaving.  
So Gwen turned and walked, choosing one knife over another. 

Merlin did not come after her. That felt like mercy too.

\+ + +

Kissing cold. White out. A whiteout. Gwen blinked once, twice. White. The rain was falling white. 

She blinked again and saw snow. 

A thought penetrated her brain, slow and gentle and sharp as ice.

She was cold. So very, very cold. She was dying.

The letters syllables sounds sunk in. Settled. Rock at the bottom of a clear pool. Plunk.

Suddenly, Gwen sat upright, terror coursing through her body. Dying. She could feel it, her own extremities shutting down. The blankness heading for her interior. Shaking, so vicious, so violent it hurt, now wracked her in spasms. 

In a flash Gwen saw, so clearly, a future. Her body would freeze, settling into a long winter’s sleep. In spring, she would thaw. Animals would crawl by and pick her to bones. Dirt would settle over her and plants would rise up. Next winter, snow would barely curve over her remains. 

The shaking got worse. Gwen leaned over and vomited, a harsh splatter in the darkness. 

The shaking got worse.

Coming to her knees, then to her feet, Gwen clung to a tree for support. Around her, an alabaster world glowed, growing inch by inch across the forest floor. 

Still. So still her head thundered, so still her heart echoed against itself. A stubborn brag. 

Gwen closed her eyes. Inside, fire still consumed her. Burning behind her lids, burning beneath her skin. Smoke clung to every pore, she would never scrub it off. She could not shake it free.  
Shaking. Shaking. She could not stop. The memories would never scrape free of her skin. All she could see was the fire. Hunting her, hungry. A maw, a mouth, a roar. Running and running, she had been running. Running so fast she thought that she would collapse die explode. Burn and burn.

Then the river. Gwen had been running and running. A canyon rose up before her. Holding the river. Mouth maw roar. The river. Burn or drown? Ashes to ashes, either way. She chose to drown. Wading forward, Gwen remembered being swept up. Losing control. Tossing turning tumbling. Hurting. 

So this is how it ends. 

Her fingers, scrabbling at wet walls, found rocks, branches, roots. A river bank. Nail by nail, Gwen dragged her body to shore. Then came the long wait. Slowly, breath trickled back into her lungs. But when the fire rose high on the far bank, leaping like devils, Gwen stood once more. And started running. And running. And running. Running until she collapsed and the deep dark washed over her. Pulled her under.

Every memory, every memory of the past day pressed against Gwen. Beat her down. A body buried by an avalanche of snowflakes. 

Shaking and shaking in the snowstorm, Gwen crumpled to her knees. Crushed by darkness and water and a roar from the far side of silence. 

Dropping her cloak onto the ground, Gwen tipped her head back. Into sky. Let the snow come down. Like a kiss. Burn through me, she whispered into silence, burn me, burn clean through me. 

\+ + +

All roads lead to and from. All roads.

Gwen walked on many roads. Roads going and coming. Roads straight and twisted, lost and found. She walked and she walked.

For three days after leaving Camelot, she did not stop. Then, Gwen came upon a village. She spent some time there, earned a rough bed and bad food. Then, there were roads. And walking. Another village, another story playing out on scenery so familiar, nothing really changed at all. 

Then more roads. Trails and paths up mountains and across plains, worn tracks going in circles and circles, the world a wider circumference than Gwen could have dreamed. 

Always, another village loomed on the horizon, always the same story told with only a subtle shift of tone. Always and always. 

Gwen walked. It didn’t take long for her to go numb. Not at all. Like this, the grief couldn’t get to her. Like this, she didn’t have to witness herself. 

All roads lead away. All roads.


	2. Blight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys:) Here's round two. I promise things will get happier. At some point. After all, it wouldn't be fanfic without significant emotional trauma.

So silent. So still. Each snowflake drummed its own pitta-pat. Its own echo. 

Gwen breathed in … and out. Her heart rate settled. The memories sank back into dark water. 

Calm, making a pretense of collected, Gwen wrapped herself in her cloak once more. It wouldn’t do much good. Nothing she owned, burned and waterlogged, would.

Now she had to walk. Intellectually, Gwen knew that: she had to start walking. 

Staring at her feet, Gwen watched the snow pile up. Flake by flake, until it became a monster as large as the mountain she stood on. Taking a deep breath, Gwen her lip hard enough to bleed. Tasted something of salt, something of iron, something of gold. Looking at her feet, she lifted one leg. 

Take a step. Then another. And another. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. In the silence. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Her cracked lips formed a twisted smile. Something rose in her chest, loose and made of bubbles. Gwen walked faster and faster. CrunchCrunchCrunchCrunch.

Scream. 

Gwen froze. One leg in the air. Reverberations bounced off trees, off sky, off white flakes. A scream. The sound faded to nothingness. To an afterthought. To air.

Had she …? Really …?

Had she?

Then, another. A shriek. The sound of someone dying. Someone hurt and someone dying. 

Gwen started shivering. Her foot came down. 

Crunch. 

She could not move, could not breathe. In and out – her lungs would not go in, then out. That shriek crawled up inside her, chewed her body alive. Someone was hurt out there. Someone lay dying.  
Shiver, shiver in a one-two time. Gwen knew these people. The sort that wander the world and end up screaming in lonely forests. The lost. The disaffected. The unwanted. Some were kind, some were cruel, and many lived beyond the pale.

Gwen stayed away from them all. Gwen stayed far away. Gwen stayed alive. 

But now. Now she had no such luxuries. If she could find these people, maybe she could help them. Maybe they would help her in return. And if not … well, she could borrow. Quietly. Take what she needed and run. 

It was the worst idea of her life. It would get her killed – she could feel death stalking her breath. But. Maybe there would be a chance of survival. Let that become enough.  
Gwen closed her eyes and felt every particle of air leave her body. Return. Leave. Return. 

She never expected life to be like this. 

Shaking, Gwen buried every thought, every feeling, down. Past the rim of dark water. Where it couldn’t touch her. She just needed to survive. She just needed to walk over that ridge. Forward. Just go forward. 

\+ + +

A blight. A blight upon the farmland. Nothing would grow, come spring. Gwen faced outward, stood and stared. Beyond. As if she could see beyond. To the next village, the next town, the next job, the next mouthful of bread.

As if. 

She should have started walking when summer folded, when the crops failed. She should have been long gone. 

Instead, like the earth, Gwen froze. Easily susceptible to blight. 

Slowly, she started shaking, facing those empty fields. So easily broken. 

Her nails dug through her palms, carving perfect red crescents. She drank down every second, every moment of the cold, the ache, the pain. All of it. Everything, everything. 

She had earned every drop, every moment, every breath. All of it everything.

Staring into blight, Gwen shivered. And caved. 

\+ + + 

Snowflakes drifted against Gwen’s cheeks, settled in her hair. Froze there. 

Up and up she crawled, digging her chapped, bloody fingers into the hillside. Grabbing branches, roots, anything. Forward, upward, she needed to get up this hillside.

Oblivious, the feather-light snow poured down. 

Finally cresting the ridge, Gwen tried to get her breath back. Black mist swam at the edges of her sight and her legs wobbled, going going down. When had she last eaten? She couldn’t remember. She could not remember. Trying to tamp down the panic, Gwen dragged herself up. 

Keep moving. Just keep moving. 

That way, (she prayed), that way. 

The snow began to slow, sending the earth into a dreamy spiral. Tighter and tighter, Gwen wound herself in circles. Tracing and tracing. That way. That way. Moving in the straight line of a curve.  
Did the scream come from her right? Her left? Could it … could it have been behind her? Spinning and spinning, down down down. 

Whoomp. Gwen hit the earth. Hard. Snow sank into her mouth and nose and clothes. Laying there, perpendicular to the horizon, Gwen nearly gave in. Until she noticed something … odd. Tracks, lots of tracks. In the snow. They looked like footsteps, human footsteps. Gwen scrambled upright. 

Too many footprints to be hers. People, there were people out here tonight. She had heard screaming. 

Insanity is a matter of perspective. Gwen’s eyes were clear.

Following the tracks, Gwen travelled deeper and deeper between the trees. Not far – it couldn’t be, not with how loud the screaming …  
sounded. 

Oh.

Two bodies.

Two bodies lay in the snow. 

Contorted. 

Gwen drew closer, pulled in, magnetized.

Close. So close her boots nearly touched their garnet halos. Nearly. 

Gwen could not inhale. Silence echoed, rang, the caroling of bells.

A horrible thought crept up on her, in that graveyard. A horrible, terrible thing. She would go to hell, she would burn again just for thinking it. But the idea crept anyway, trickling through the vertebrae in her spine. 

The bodies wore cloaks. 

Big, thick cloaks. 

Their packs lay on the ground.

Unused. Useful. 

Shaking pounded through her. Gwen could not look down. She would be sick. She was going to be sick. 

Facing away, into the pure snow field, Gwen took one deep breath. Then another. And another. Still, the thoughts would not leave her. She would not let them go

I will pay for this. I will suffer. But I will live. 

Gwen closed her eyes. Her lashes dragged, a frozen scrape against her skin. 

I’m so sorry.

Swallowing bile, Gwen approached the one of the bodies. A woman. Eyes wide open, she died with her eyes open. 

Shaking, Gwen tried to think of nothing, tried to focus on the mundane nature of her task. Unfasten the cloak. Lift the edges. Roll the body free. Ignore that dull thump in the snow. Mundane. Normal. Nothing. This was nothing. 

The lies burned, like vomit in her throat. Gwen froze, the cloak clutched in her fingers, and tried to shove the bile down. Wrapping the cloak around her body, Gwen refused to think anything at all. It almost worked, until the scent hit her. 

It took every ounce of self-control not to rip the fabric from her body, not to scream, not to cry. Because now Gwen knew what this dead woman smelled like and that truth felt too intimate, too close, too sudden against her skin. 

Still shaking, Gwen picked up a pack at random, unable to look through it. She would not turn around. She would not look at the bodies. She would run, she had to go.

Not until the pack sat heavy on her shoulders, not until she reached the crest of the hill, not until she faced the long expanse, did Gwen pause. And wait. And stare. And then, lifting each foot with dreadful care, return. 

Scooping snow with numb hands, Gwen did what she could. Not much. A good wind would scatter these burial mounds. But it felt right. The first right thing she had done. 

On her knees, Gwen whispered, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. The keening wind carried her words, let them rise. 

I’m so sorry. 

On her knees, Gwen watched the snow eddy and swirl. Eddy and swirl. Eddy and swirl. 

In that stillness, because of that stillness, Gwen noticed something … odd. Far off, getting further. A muffled yelping. Like a small animal in pain, desperate to break the trap. Like a – child. A human child. 

That shriek. Right there. Splitting, so sharp it fractured her. A child that’s how a child screams. 

On her knees, in the snow, Gwen went still as death. Her eyes flickered desperately from tree to tree, her eyes seeking threads of the sound. But, already, it faded to nothingness. To an afterthought. To air.

Had she …? Really …?

Had she?

A child scream?

Insanity is a matter of perspective. Gwen knew her eyes were clear. Gwen knew. 

The last eddies of snow piled about her, flakes drifting down down down. Grey light, soft as heather, began filling the air. Still, Gwen knelt. Paralyzed between the silence and the scream.  
She could leave. She could go. Take the pack and run. No one would know. She could start over, maybe for real. Put down roots, fragile and thin through they be. She could. She could try. No one would know. No one would remember. 

Except me. 

Gwen’s ears ached under the pressure. Out there, a child might be in pain. An animal might be caught in a trap. Out there, anything could be true. But Gwen knew, she knew, she knew.  
Oh, how badly she wanted to run. A few tears fell loose, sharp and clean. So badly. This she knew.

Yet there, in the snow, in the silence, in light, she also understood: it couldn’t end like this. Her wandering. It couldn’t end like this. 

Not quite believing her own actions, Gwen stood. Crunch. Crunch. Took a step. Crunch Took another. Crunch. 

The scream had come from her left. It didn’t take long to find tracks leading away from the clearing, long imprints leading away, away. 

Gwen did not pause. Following the erratic path, she refused to turn around. To know. If the dead were coming for her yet, bloody bits dragging through the snow. Scenting her trail. 

Terrified, Gwen hugged her ribs close and kept walking. 

\+ + + 

Spring time. Endless wells of water, pouring out. Gwen pushed forward, the rain her second skin.

Too many questions. She shivered. They had started asking too many questions. 

No, you don’t recognize my face. 

No, I’ve never been to Camelot in my life.

No. No. No. 

None of that, nothing, that’s not me.

The journey ached through her bones. She been walking forever. She would be wandering forever. Every mile, every inch, carved into the soles of her feet. Every step. 

Exhaustion claimed her, each morning. Her eyes opened and the heavy weights sank through her chest, pulling her down down down. 

\+ + +

Gruff, male voices, and a crying child. The sounds slipped into Gwen’s head before she fully registered them. 

Close. They were close. 

Creeping forward, Gwen drifted nearer and nearer. Between the trees, bits of bodies flickered into view. Half a torso here, a bit of a hand there. 

Hunter and hunted moved through the woods, small dots in the ultraviolet landscape. 

Eventually, the men stopped walking and lowered their packs to the ground. Gwen crept closer still, a vulture studying a carcass. Closer and closer, as far as she dared. 

The snow was thin here, just a white dusting. Her feet moved, near soundless. Closer and closer. Finally, only a low embankment separated her from the men. Carefully sitting in the snow, Gwen nearly whimpered in relief. Every part of her body ached.

In the clear forest air, the men’s voices traveled a long way. 

One said, “Lot of fucking trouble for a little brat.”

The other replied, his reedy voice sharp and brittle, “A lot of fucking money, you mean.”

“You didn’t get stabbed.”

“You should have ducked.”

“All I’m saying is, we’re in some deep shit right now. Over what? A five year old.”

“If I recall, you thought this job was a good idea. You thought we’d be crazy to turn it down.”

“I know, I know,” the slower, deeper voice muttered, “I’m just sayin … those two won’t be the end of it. She’s gonna find us.”

“Let her. We already have the boy. Soon, we’ll have the money. Then – we can be anywhere and anyone. Now shut up. I didn’t care about your opinions yesterday and I don’t give a rat’s ass about them now.”

The two lapsed into silence, a thick tension coating the clearing. Gwen felt frozen too. The truth poured through her, hot and caustic. 

No more doubt now. No more disbelief. No more. 

We’ve taken the kid a lot of money  
We can be anywhere  
Anywhere anywhere

Gwen shivered. These men had kidnapped a child. These men – she knew men like this. The shivering got worse. 

Occasionally, sound came from the clearing. Words got half-grunted, left to die in the snow. But no noises from the child. Exhausted and hungry, Gwen started looking through the stolen pack to stay awake.

Food. Water. Clean shirt. A scarf. (her hands started shaking) Socks. Map. Gwen inhaled then, a sharp and sudden sound, her first real breath in days. A map. At the bottom of the pack lay a glass bottle. Curious, Gwen held it up, clear liquid slosh left, then right. 

A quick whiff sent her head reeling, her eyes spinning, made time go a funny sort of sideways dream. Pulled thick like caramel stretching thin thinner over the edge … Gwen jerked upright. Taking in long, quiet breaths, she to clear her lungs.

Clean it out. Pour it out. That’s right. Scrub it clean. 

When her head stopped spinning, Gwen firmly shoved the cork back in the bottle. 

Chloroform. Very potent chloroform. 

Blinking fast, Gwen put the bottle back in the bag. It took her a moment to register that the men had started snoring. Gwen couldn’t stop a soft, feral smile from forming on her face. 

Drop by drop, an idea formed in her mind. 

The men never had a chance to fight. Gwen crept behind one, then the other. Feet soft, feather-light, like a breath. Covered one face, then another, with cloth soaked in chloroform. She watched as their bodies went limp. One, then the other. 

A hollowness filled her then, left her empty as a whiteout. 

Kneeling between the men, breathing barely breathing, Gwen finally looked up. 

A child stared back. The child. She shivered once. A dry leaf in autumn. The child stared at her. He. He was a he. And real. Really real. Gwen exhaled, long and unsteady. Her eyes flickered, flickered, trying to see past her adrenaline. 

Tied to a tree. They had him tied. To a tree. Little arms, crushed under rope. Little legs, covered in snow. She shook, she shook, she shook. They tied him to a tree. A black haze grew, spread through her. Pulsed deep inside her lungs. She would drown them in chloroform. She make them choke on it until they gave up gasping, until they died. 

A breeze whipped through the trees, and the boy shivered. He looked so tired. He looked so scared. Suddenly, all the fight drained out of Gwen. All the rage. 

Getting to her feet, movements slow and steady, Gwen walked over to the boy. He flinched away, pressing his thin body into tree bark. He looked so tired. He looked so frightened. Gwen held up her hands, empty palms out. In her most soothing tones she said, “Hi there. I’m Gwen. I’m going to help you, okay? I’m here to help you.”

The boy stared, blinked, said nothing. 

Gwen tried again, “I’m know you’re scared right now. I promise, we’re going to get away from these men. But first, I need you to hold still while I cut the ropes.”

The boy shook his head, then started speaking in a language Gwen couldn’t understand. 

“Oh.” She whispered, understanding sinking in. “Okay.” 

Trying a different tactic, Gwen started whispering a soothing litany of nonsense. Slowly, she pulled her knife from her pack, but the boy still flinched. Carefully moving away from him, Gwen continued her litany of sweet nothings as she cut the ropes. They didn’t take long to come free, a gentle unraveling. Stiff and slow, the boy crawled away. For a moment, he hesitated. Then, he came towards Gwen, stretching out his fingers towards her.

Careful, gentle, Gwen reached out her own hand, wrapped his chilled palm in her own. Squeezed, a little. He squeezed back, just a little. 

Pulling the boy close to her side, Gwen adjusted his jacket and wrapped a scarf around his head. Finally, he smiled. Frail, fragile thing. Taking his hand again, Gwen led the child away, keeping her body between him and the sight of the men. 

They walked up the embankment into a wall of bright light. East. Gwen closed her eyes, saw the lay lines of the map once more. They would go east.


	3. Trace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters will be shorter, some will be longer. This one happens to be very short. Enjoy:)

The sun rose, slowly.

It touched white walls, turning them heather grey, a dirty sort of snowfall. 

It settled on people, blurring their bodies, a special type of whiteout.

It smelled like summer, if summer had already gone.

His fingers gripped the stone edge of the balcony. Clutched it, hard enough to bruise. In the wind, his blond hair brushed and breezed, a tarnished ripple of gold. Blue eyes, clear as clean water, gazed forward. No more looking back. Not again. 

Too tired. He felt too tired to carry all this. 

Eyes wide open and they didn’t see a thing.

“Sire. Sire?”

“Yes, Merlin?” Too tired, too weary. To his very bones. 

“Have you been listening to anything I’m saying?”

“No, Merlin.”

“Well then.” Merlin huffed, his words soft around the edges, “Nice to see those princely manners hard at work. Now come on, you need to put pants on at some point.”

Arthur turned, at last, from the balcony, from the first flecks of sunlight breaking into him.

“Merlin,” he groaned, staring at the full ceremonial uniform. Not today. Not today.

“What?” Glints of irritation finally bled into Merlin’s voice. “You want to announce your engagement to the entire court in your pajamas?”

I don’t want to announce it at all.

Arthur nearly said the words. Nearly. He bit them back, tasting something of blood, something of iron, something of tarnished gold. 

Merlin seemed to understand. He helped Arthur dress in silence. A clink of metal, the brush of cloth, these were all sounds composing the world. 

Shoulder to shoulder, they gazed at the king in the mirror. 

Stared in silence.

“I can’t.” Arthur spoke, shocked at the words, shocked at the truth in the mirror. His lips, moving. I can’t. “I can’t,” he continued, “It’s just … not now.”

“That’s okay, sire.” Merlin murmured.

“No,” Arthur said softly, “it’s not. Mithian will never forgive me. I don’t blame her. I care for her, deeply. I believe she feels the same. But I can’t trust them, Merlin. Ever. I don’t even know her. I don’t know her at all.” Arthur paused then, a long, heavy weight. “Cancel the announcement. And ask Mithian if she will come speak with me.”

“Of course, sire.” Briefly, Merlin rested his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, heat fluttering through the metal. 

As he reached the door, Merlin turned around. “Sire, if I were you, I’d leave the armor on.”

The door shut. Arthur managed the trace of a smile. It faded, then, to nothing.


	4. Something of Salt

They had made it. To the road. Gwen breathed in that heady, earthy smell. They found the road.

Shaking with exhaustion, every muscle ready to give in, lay down, collapse, Gwen helped Berren through the last feet of forest. Holding his tiny hand in hers, she stepped out from the canopy of trees into the edges of shadow and light. Far ahead, the sun cut an arc across the sky. 

Berren squeezed her fingers. Shaking, a little.

“Shh,” Gwen murmured, pulling him close to her side, “Shhh, it’ll be alright now.”

It’ll be alright now. It’ll be. It’ll be. Gwen prayed the litany in her head. It’ll be. It’ll be. 

“Come on.” She gave his hand a small tug. “We only have a little further.”

But Berren would not move. Not an inch. Not a step. He only swayed a little, a reed caught in a thunderstorm. Gwen crouched down and saw a pale face, streaked, like thin porcelain, with tears.

“Oh, Berren.” The back of her fingers brushed the tears away. “It’s okay. It’s okay now. Come here.” She opened her arms and, immediately, he wrapped thin arms around her back. Lifting him up, Gwen had to take a long moment. Grey fuzz filled her brain, a dizziness so thick she almost collapsed. Breathe, just breathe. Will the blood back down. Easy, breathe now, easy. 

One step, then another. That’s it. That’s how you walk.

One step. Another. 

“Alright Berren,” Gwen whispered, his curly hair tickling her nose, “We’re on our way. We’re going.”

Berren didn’t respond, just laid his head on her shoulder. Breathed out. Breathed in. 

Such a quiet child, Gwen marveled at it. He had barely spoken a word the entire walk, only breaking the silence to whisper his name, finger pointing towards his chest.

“Berren,” he had said, staring at Gwen, finger pressing into ribs. 

“Berren,” Gwen repeated, the name unfamiliar on her tongue. 

Now, exhaustion had numbed them beyond even that small exchange. Sleep deprivation and starvation, later Gwen would point to them, the only reasonable explanation for why she didn’t notice the horses until they almost ran her and Berren over. 

At the last moment, she heard a rapid clip-clop, clip-clop and the squeak of wagon wheels, a man yelling, “Move, move! Damn yo-”. Gwen threw her body to one side, trying to shield Berren. In the long fall down, the world dissolved into fractured images, blues and greens and boiling greys, over-written by a ba-doom ba-doom, her racing heart. 

“Whoa, whoa!” The man yelled again, his voice carving into the twilight, a horse whinnied, a horse cried, “Whoa, whoa.”

Opening her eyes, Gwen saw dirt. She lay cheek-first in the dirt, staring down the barrel of a vertical road. Too easy to slide off, going, going, gone. Gwen swallowed. For a brief moment, closed her eyes. Gripped down, fingers burrowing through mud. 

Against her chest, Berren did not move. Biting down panic, Gwen sat up so fast her head spun. Desperately pushing back Berren’s hood, she found two eyes looking back at her. He blinked. And blinked again. Oh thank the gods, thanks the gods. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, walking this road near night?” Gwen’s head jerked up. She pulled Berren close. A large man, wrapped in furs, walked towards them. “Just asking to get run over, you are.”

Swallowing, tongue paralyzed, Gwen could not respond. No good answers. No good words. 

“I … I …” She stammered. 

The man looked down at her and Berren, and let loose a long, exasperated breath. “This is no weather for you and the young one to be out. What are ye doing here?”

No good answers. No good words. A frozen forest and two dead bodies and kidnappers and her. A sea of hungry teeth, this world, hungry teeth closing in. 

Trust no one, her fellow wanders said time and time again. Trust no one.

Trust no one, Gwen whispered now in the gap between her teeth. 

“We’re travelling to Arken. I’m supposed to meet my husband there. But we got lost, in the storm.” The clarity of her own voice surprised Gwen. 

“Arken, you say?” The man stared down. Believe me, Gwen screamed through every inch of her body, believe me. She stared back. Releasing a great breath, the man said “I happen to be heading there myself. You and the babe might as well climb in the back of the cart there. But,” he warned, “we won’t be stopping. This here is no ladeda carriage ride.”

Gwen felt wet mud seeping through her pants and Berren’s panicked breaths. She felt the cold as it shot into her lungs, she felt the dead chill. Only these sensations, pressing, pressing, against the blank wall of her. 

Pressing, pressing her down. 

The part of the man’s face covered in hair began to look distinctly annoyed. “I’m don’t wanna leave a woman and child out here by themselves. In the dirt. In winter. My gods. But I’m not gonna wait around for night fall neither. So, up with ye, if you’re comin.”

Fight. Flight. Flight. Fight. Panic, sharp as nails, ate her bones. Away from here, she wanted away from here. Panic, clear as glass. Smothering her. 

Then Berren tugged Gwen’s hand. A little thing. She snapped in a breath. He looked up at her, exhausted. A little boy collapsed beside her on a muddy road. Just a little boy. Gripping his palm in her own, Gwen stood and denied her dizzy, aching heart. 

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the man helped Berren, then Gwen, into the back of the cart. Curling against sacks of grain, Gwen pulled Berren close and wrapped her cloak around him. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured, “It’ll be just fine.”

Soon, Berren feel asleep, body caught in the pattern of an easy breath in, an easy breath out. Rocked in the cart’s sway, the road unchanging line, Gwen felt sleep come for het. So tired … just a few minutes to rest her eyes… she felt so tired…

Night crawled across the edges of the horizon, seeping up into the sky. The road poured on and on, a river you can never visit twice. 

Gwen and Berren slept through twilight and last light and shadow. Into darkness. 

Dark. It was so dark. Gwen couldn’t understand. Someone shook her shoulder, rattling her body. Stop, she tried to murmur, stop it. Finally, Gwen opened her eyes. 

Nothing, she could see nothing. Flashes, spots of light too bright, too sudden, her brain could not understand. A brightout. A whiteout. Out of focus. She blinked, and the scene slid into view. 

Torches passed as people hurried down streets and windows blazed with fire light. 

Town. Gwen let out a long breath. Town. 

Taking the man’s hand, Gwen climbed out of cart, holding the still-sleeping Berren. For a long moment, she and the man stood there, boots washed in icy mud, saying nothing. 

“Well.” The man shuffled his feet, “I guess I better be going. Stay safe now, yeself and the wee one. There’s an inn, right there up the road.” Giving Gwen a rough nod, the man turned away. 

Now or never, now or never, but still, words, all jammed up in her throat – “Wait.” Gwen called out. He turned back towards her. “Thank you.” She strangled the syllables out. “Thank you.”

Another nod. She blinked once, and he was already seated on the cart. Blinked again, and he was rumbling down the road. A third time, and the darkness swallowed him. 

Wait. I don’t even know you’re name, Gwen wanted to call again. You saved our lives. And I don’t know your name. Instead, Gwen hitched Berren higher on her hip and began walking up the road. But no matter how fast she walked, her feet kept skidding back in the mud. People buffeted her on every side. She couldn’t fix her hood. The misting rain seeping into her, chilled her through. Berren began to fidget, to whimper.

Alone, lost, exhausted, Gwen stopped. Just, stopped. Leaned on the side of a building. Stared up. Out. Away. A whiteout filled her brain. Like cotton and cloud. Storm in a teacup, she felt herself falling apart. 

A door swung open, a brick of light, slicing through her. Cutting open the fog, surgical knife split. Gwen looked up. The tavern, there across the street. The tavern. She had to make it. Berren clung to her. Whimpering, the sound beat the fog, whimpering. She had to make it. One more step, then another. Forward. Let this be the way.

Stumbling into the tavern, Gwen tried not to flinch at the smell of old beer and unwashed bodies. Warm, at least it was warm. Pushing through the crowd, Gwen made her way to the bar. There, everyone ignored, the servers too tired or busy to care. 

Berren’s fussing grew louder. He started pushing against Gwen’s shoulders, his little face turning red. Panicking a little, Gwen set him on a stool and tried to sooth him. 

“Shhhh, shhhhh,” she whispered, rubbing his back, “Shhh, it’s okay.”

His crying only got louder. People started staring, glares of judgement, disdain. 

Crouching down, Gwen desperately said, “Berren, Berren, shhh it’s alright, it’s okay. Shhh now. Please. Please.”

Lost. Oh gods, she felt so lost. He kept crying. Lost, oh gods. Gwen fought tears herself. Oh gods, my gods. 

“Oy.” A barmaid dropped her tray on the table. Gwen jumped. Unceremoniously, the woman shoved a roll into Berren’s hands. She snapped, “What you doing, letting the little one get as tired as all that?” 

“I … we’ve been traveling. A long way.”

“And you didn’t think to pack any food?” She said, watching Berren tear into the roll. 

Too worn, too tired, Gwen simply replied, “We got lost. It’s hard out there, in winter.”

“Ay. That it is.” The woman’s gaze softened, just a bit. “Well. What’ll you be needing tonight?”

“A room. And dinner. Please.”

“Room for two? Or three?”

Gwen locked eyes with this stranger, not much older than herself. “My husband will be joining us in the morning.” Believe me. You believe me. Please. 

“I hope so.” Her lip curled, the smallest sneer. Picking up her tray, she stared hard and said, “You’ll be paying for the room and meal now. My name’s Mathilda, if you’re needing anything.”

“Thanks, Mathilda.” Gwen paid her then and there. And she never blinked. 

Twenty minutes later, tucked into a small room with a bowl of stew in her hands, Gwen tried to breathe. Berren sat beside her, his short legs dangling off the chair, happily eating his own stew.   
Resting a hand on his back, Gwen murmured to herself, “We’re going to be okay, you and me. We’ll find your family. You’re going to go home.” Those words took the last air out of her. Instead of thinking anymore, Gwen focused on her stew, the texture of strange meat, the starchy rub of potatoes. 

Berren smiled up at her, just a little. 

After he finished eating, Gwen helped tuck him into bed. Carefully, she surrounded him with blankets and waited for him to fall asleep. 

Like waves, breathing filled the room. A little inhale, a little exhale. Susurrus. Gwen watched firelight dapple the walls, spiraling like leaves, spiraling down, down, down. And she began to think. Beyond the next seconds. Beyond the next minutes. The coming hours. The coming days. 

A child. Oh gods. What was she supposed to do? 

The shaking came again, rattling her, racking her spine. 

What was she supposed to do? A little boy. Hunted and haunted and lost. Both of them, so lost. Gwen shook, she shook, she shook. 

Tomorrow. Gwen closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Tomorrow, she would find someone who could speak Berren’s language. Tomorrow she would find out the name of his village. Tomorrow she would take him home. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Roughly brushing away a few tears, Gwen stood. Enough of this. Enough. Grabbing the empty food tray, she made her way back into the tavern. 

Few of the earlier crowd remained. Those left behind sullenly nursed a final pint of beer. Exhaustion lapped at Gwen in waves, ate into her every step. Gratefully, Gwen set her dishes on the bar and turned back toward the stairwell. And stopped. Cold.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen this boy? Are you certain?” A man asked. His voice urgent. Desperate. Panicked. Gwen knew the taste of that panic, that acid fear. 

“I can’t say I’ve seen any children wanderin about by themselves.” Mathilda spoke. Gwen could not move. Could not lift a foot, raise a finger, she stood pinned down. Nailed to this dirt.

“He wouldn’t wander-” So desperate, the stranger. So afraid. “He’s small for his age, doesn’t look older than five. And he has such thick, curly hair. Please, it’s like I said, I need to find him.” His voice lowered, “The people I work for, they’ll pay. Well. Anything you know…”

The nails in Gwen broke free. Every beat of her heart a thunder, she walked step by careful step back to the room, wanting to run, desperate to flee. 

Shaking so hard she could barely unlock the door, Gwen stepped inside and saw – oh thank the gods – Berren. Oh thank the gods. Unable to stand, Gwen let her legs give way, let her back skid against the door. All the way down. 

She tried breathed, tried and failed. Tried and failed. Failed and tried. Tears skittered loose, Gwen could not stop them. Do not sob, do not sob. Don’t draw attention, don’t noise. Do not sob, not once, not at all. 

A sob broke free.

Gwen bit down on her hand. Bit and tasted blood. 

Any second now, it would all end. A door smashed down, Berren ripped screaming from the bed, her own body beaten and bruised. Any second now. 

All those miles, and somehow Gwen walked Berren into the heart of a snare. She thought they would be safe, after all those miles. 

Instead they found a noose tightening down, down, down. 

Any second now. 

They had to run. Her and Berren. Run and not stop, as far as they could. Further. Beyond the lines of her maps. Past the edge. They had to flee. 

But a nail held every muscle down. Gwen could not move. Weight filled her, crushed her, lead in her bones. Such unbearable pressure. Tears leaked free. 

She had to move. She could not move. She had to stand. She had no legs. 

The minutes passed, a minuet of shadows. Gwen marked the passing shades, a convict. Her head became still. Clean like white rooms. Empty as whistling wind. Silent.   
Near dawn, the shaking finally leeched away. Her tears slowed. Then stopped. She slept. Eyes wide open. She slept.


	5. Something of Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, lots of drama. Dun dun dunnnnnnn...

Sunlight bleed through the shutters and Gwen listened to Berren breathe. Heard the hallow rattle of her own chest.

In and out.

The inn came to life around them. Boots stomping up and down stairs. Shouts in the street. Chunks of sunlight spilling against the walls.

Gwen waited.

Berren woke up. She brought him food, helped him get ready for the day. Tried to smile, though it felt a little strange. Sat beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulder. And waited.

Light poured through the window, the buttercup yellow promising a bright blue day. The town grew louder, now fully awake.

Gwen stood. Ready. Lifted her pack and took Berren’s hand. They started walking.

Out of the inn, into the street, lockstep with the flood of people. One drop in a river. Unnoticeable. Invisible. Let me fade. Let us be like smoke, water, light.

They walked. Halfway through town. Three-quarters of the way through town. Almost to the gate.

Boom, boom, the brag of her heart beat. Boom, boom. Almost to the gate. Almost to the wide, empty space. Gwen could taste the silence.

Hold tight, Berren. Hold tight, we’ll be soon free. She lifted him into her arms. Hold tight now.

She could taste the expanse.

She could – a boom, a snap, a jerk, a drag, her body torn back, into a dark alley, into the black. Walls rising over.

She might have screamed. Hold tight Berren, hold tight.

She stopped breathing entirely at a new taste, the final one. Iron. Iron from the knife at her throat. 

 


	6. Something of Bone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Madness! Insanity! Cats and dogs are falling from the sky! 
> 
> Enjoy:)

A delicate silver sing, this knife. So cold it prickled on her skin. Gwen needed to swallow. She didn’t dare.

Against her chest, Berren didn’t move. The two of them, held at knife point, wrapped in a noose tightening down, down, down.

“Such a sweet image,” a dark shadow came into view, outlined against the bright, white mouth of the alley. “I had to see it for myself. A mother and child, traveling together. Surviving against the odds in this cold, cruel world. It would melt the heart of anyone who had one.”

A knocking began in Gwen, a knocking on her ribs. She was going to die. They would take Berren and hurt her and kill her. She had failed Berren. And she was going to die. Alone.

Against all sanity, against all odds, Gwen wanted to close her eyes. Just for a moment. Just so she didn’t have to see it. See here. Be here. Just so she could go home, one more time.

I don’t want to die alone.

The blade against her throat stung, a thin line of pepper burning through her. It didn’t waver. The body pressed against her, holding that blade so steady, felt like a wall, solid and unyielding.

The shadow closed in. “But I know the truth. The child doesn't belong to you. So, you have two options here. Put him down and live. Or don’t and die. I don’t care which you choose.”

Berren began to fuss, pushing against her arms. Gwen felt every snap-and-boom of the heart in her chest. Every beat. “No.” She breathed.

“No?” The shadow came closer still, head cocked to one side, like a viper. "No, then." He raised one hand, a signal. Gwen closed her eyes.

_I’m sorry_.

She held Berren close, hoping to calm him.

_I’m so sorry_.

Any second now, her heart beat out the moments. Any second –

but the shadow’s hand never fell, and the knife never cut, and the rapidly shrinking future spun back out like a newly-wound ball of yarn.

Berren kicked Gwen, so hard the breath collapsed out of her. He pushed away, so fast he fell out of her arms. And hit the ground. In that moment of impact, nobody moved.

Then Gwen felt her arms jerked back, legs kicked from under her, pain arcing through her. Crashing down. She came crashing down. Agony, she might have screamed. Face shoved into the earth, she fought, but it had all gone sideways, the horizon a vertical line.

A tight grip in her hair, lifting her head up, then _bam_ she tasted dirt blood blackness stars. Abandoned by gravity, Gwen closed her eyes.

Maybe she fought, when the wet cloth covered her mouth. Maybe she screamed. But by then, too late. The world already dragged sideways, going, gone.


	7. High Blue

Swaying.

Twist, turn, snap, drifting upright, over, up one side down the other.

Jerk, jerk, she tries to breathe.

A wet cloth. Covering her. Face. Trying to inhale water. Fighting.

Don’t get very far.

Swaying.

Falling. Body going over over gone away.

+

Swaying horse.

Back and forth.

Swaying horse.

Need to vomit. Be right back.

Swimming in the saddle. Clear fluid, covering her up, clear fluid it hurts.

Feel so raw, so full of chili peppers.

Hands, she fights them, a struggling a twisting but hands. Wet cloth comes up to smother the world. A going a rolling a spiraling deeper over down.

+

The next time, she feels air rushing in. Breath. She feels breathing.

Her eyelids flutter flutter, a struggle, but only blackness. Flutter flutter struggle. But only blackness. Flutter flutter – breathe, Gwen breathes. A blindfold, she has a blindfold on.

Breathe and breathe. Please.

Nausea swims though her, high and hallucinogenic. The air on her skin feels like light, soft blue. Gwen relaxes into it. High soft blue.

The horse sways, rolls then bumps, she rolls then bumps.

An arm grips her waist, jerks her upright. Then the cloth comes, old friend, drink me down. And the world turns a sickly shade of tangerine as it skitters sideways backwards down.

+

Pale breathing. Wet indigo air.

Water?

Shuddering, jerk, jerk, no no more no no…

+

Boom ba-doom, boom ba-doom, boom ba-doom.

Hooves, all the hooves. Hooves, all the horses.

Boom ba-doom, boom ba-doom, boom ba-doom.

Thunder she rides through thunder she flies with lightning, copper, rod, masthead.

+

Boom.

+

Gwen gasped. Dirt filled her throat. She coughed and tasted blood.

She opened her eyes and witnessed textures, patterns in the darkness. She saw boots stop by her face, felt hands grab her shackled arms and pull up.

Pain turned the night a million bright lights. Long, heaving coughs burned the inside of her.

Body of water, she shuddered, I am a mere body of water.

A hand shoved between Gwen’s shoulder blades. Stumble forward, little two feet, stumble on.

All around Gwen, strange voices rose and rumbled, shapes dancing in a forest of half-light. Camp fires, wild fires, Gwen blinked, was any of this – the wavering world – real?

Step by step, a hot nausea built inside her. Step by step, pain sung through her body. Worse to come. Gwen wanted to close her eyes. There would be worse to come. Beatings and torture and … worse.

Gwen wanted to call Berren’s name but didn’t dare.

Step by step, the words in her lungs sang true: I will die here. I will die here. I will die here. But first, I will hurt.

In the nightmare’s half-light, Gwen saw shadowy bodies congregate around her, Gwen felt a hush descend as every eye turned on her. And stopped. A breath before wind.

Lost in the light, in the sound, in the coming thunder, Gwen didn’t see the tent until a flap hit her face. Thawp, she tripped, fell, hit the earth, down on her knees. Her hands got pulled behind her, tied to a pole. She tried to fight. Against this coming end, she gave every breath. She tried to fight.

It was not enough.

A fist came around, speed of an arrow, faster than even her thoughts until the last second before knuckles connected with her jaw.

Then came a million moments to feel the silky kiss of skin on skin, the tender impact of bones in a dance, the infinitely delicate turn of a spine. Hiss. Jerk. Thwak.

Blackout.  


	8. Conversation in a Blackout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get used to chapters being posted this frequently:) For anyone out who likes long chapters, don't worry, there are some real doozies coming. And in a totally unrelated series of events, there will also be much longer gaps between chapter postings. 
> 
> Now, without further ado, I give you a very short chapter:

“ _What the hell did they do?_ ”

“ _You give a shit?_ ”

“ _I’m just saying, this bruise? It’s not good. Not good at all._ ”

“ _Because I don’t give a shit._ ”

“ _They could have killed her. They nearly did, all that chloroform. Gods damnit, Kant knows better.”_

_“Kant also doesn’t give a shit.”_

_“Obviously.”_

_“Look, Astal, just make sure she isn’t going to die before tomorrow morning. Fieri wants to question her_.”

“ _Oh, wonderful._ ”


	9. Thunder in the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And better than ever (unlikely, but one can always dream)!
> 
> Apologies for the long delay between postings. I'd like to blame something cool like a mission to destroy a villian's lair or that I had to fend off an attack by genetically engineered super wolves. But no, it was just life being life. 
> 
> Anyway - hope you enjoy and, as always, grammar mistakes in this un-betaed piece are both embarrassing and totally my fault.

She dreamed of light. A blurry sort of cream, amber leaking in. Only to open her eyes and find it was all true.

Wincing at the dawn, Gwen felt every inch of her body aching, even her eyelids, even her skin. Resting back against the rough wooden pole, she swallowed down her nausea. Giving into the weight of gravity, Gwen closed her eyes. Better down there, in the darkness.

Carefully, she tested the ropes binding her wrists. No give. Trapped. Her head fell back. She tried again, working against the ropes until hot trickles of blood pooled in her palms. Again and again. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. The litany filled Gwen like drops of lead weighing her down.

“It won’t work.”

Gwen opened her eyes. A man stood before her, only feet away. He seemed faintly amused, a predator watching its prey run in circles. Headed for the trap.

Gwen froze.

“You won’t get out of those ropes,” he continued, sharp eyes never leaving her face. “But you might bleed out trying, which wouldn’t be much of a loss to me.”

Gwen could not make her lungs to open.

Smiling now, a sadistic little twitch, the man crouched before her. Eye to eye. Softly, he said, “My name is Kant, and we are about to become very good friends.”

“So, as your friend, let me tell you what happens now. You will be brought before my queen. You will show her the utmost respect. You will answer all her questions. Truthfully. Because if you don’t, I will make you pay for it.”

He leaned in a little further, voice deathly quiet, “I don’t care what rat hole you crawled out of. I don’t care how much they paid you. Others will. I won’t. My concern, my only concern, is making sure that you get thrown in a cell so deep and dark, you’ll only exit in a coffin.”

White walls filled Gwen, white walls in her head, her heart, slamming down.

The man said something in a foreign language and two people entered the tent. Armed to the teeth, Gwen noticed, the thought a free-floating line in her brain. Ready for a war.

One untied her hands. The other watched, hand on the pommel of his sword.

Standing, Gwen realized how little blood remained in her face. Dizziness so deep, she fell to her knees. No one to catch her. No one to soften the blow.

So many times. Gwen stared at the ground. She had fallen to her knees so many times. In this dirt, on a throne room’s floor. Never anyone to catch her. Ever. Weight pinned Gwen down, every white wall.

Hands yanked on her shoulders and hauled Gwen’s body up.

“Move,” the Kant snapped. But Gwen didn’t. Inside her head, tumblers were clicking into place, bits of a lock finally recognizing a key.

“You,” she breathed. “I know you. From the alley. I thought … I recognized your voice.”

“Well done.” He replied in mocking adoration. “Best start walking, or I’ll have you dragged.”

Swaying, Gwen moved forward, following Kant out of the tent.

Just walk, she whispered in the dark gaps between the teeth and the jaw. Just walk. Just breathe. Just try to live.

Just walk.

Every step, every breath, could the last, her last. Gwen tried to take the world in, all in one gulp. A watery sun. The thin wind, a color of she could never name but only feel. A smell of dried grass and blight. It became important, suddenly vital, that Gwen should experience these things. One last time. For a moment, the span of a butterfly’s kiss, Gwen closed her eyes.

Let me remember this. Everything, everything.

Then, a shadow descended before her. A tent. Standing at the center of the camp, larger than the others. The tent. Inside … Gwen swallowed, shaking slightly. The hurting and the dying. Both would come for her.

Oh my gods, protect me, guard me, guide me from evil. Oh, my gods.

Gwen entered.

Momentarily, she lost all sense of space. In the deep dim, her eyes made out half-shapes, forms folding into shadow. Blink, and the world righted itself, reality taking on solid lines.

Someone shoved Gwen onto her knees and her bones echoed with the impact of old bruises. Heart pounding, Gwen looked up and got caught – fly in amber – by a pair of eyes. Tawny irises stared into Gwen, stared straight through her.

There were others in the tent – Kant, a man, some women – but Gwen could not look at them, she could not look away.

 Air in the tent congealed, so thick that breathing became a palpable disturbance. The woman smiled, her hypnotic eyes narrowing but never breaking contact, mouth jerking into a thin line. She began speaking in a strange language.

“ _Sevi, are you ready?_ ”

“ _Yes, my lady.”_

“ _Then by all means, begin._ ”

A hand touched the back of Gwen’s neck, then … the pain did not surprise her. Vicious heat, a sharp spark against her bones. At strange relief, at least, to no longer be waiting for the worst.

But within moments, that relief curdled, became viscous and sharp. Something like terror. This was no normal pain, no not this hot burn traveling in the marrow of her spine, in the joints between her bones. No. No. Gwen knew, she knew, the truth beating against her like storm waves.

Magic. Oh my gods. They are using magic.

As the spell moved through Gwen’s body, that woman’s eyes never left her. She sat with a casual grace, almost lounging. The muscles in her wrists flickered with a one-two time, fingers taping on the pommel of a sword resting by her leg.

Gwen blinked, for a long moment she closed her eyes. A sea change of will poured through her, the magic taking possession.

Just slightly, Gwen began to shake.

It hurt.

Finally, the long silence filling the tent came to an end. The woman with the amber eyes leaned forward, her gaze a burn as bright as a wildfire.

“Do you know who I am?”

Gwen shook her head, terrified to speak.

“My name is Fieri Caldatonia Killari, Queen and ruler of Analuan. Now, who the hell are you?”

 “Guinevere. My name is Guinevere.” The words left Gwen, even though she fought to stay silent, fought to hold in her breath.

“Where do you come from?”

“Nowhere.”

“Don’t lie to me girl.”

I can’t lie, Gwen wanted to scream, it’s eating me alive, this magic. Do you understand? I can’t. I want to. But I can’t.

So new words forced their way out, “I come from Camelot, but I left a long time ago. I’m a migrant worker now.”

The queen studied Gwen carefully. “A woman with no last name, no allegiances, and no land to call home. A wanderer. A wastrel. Well, then. What scum of the earth are you working for?”

“I’m not working for anybody.”

Those amber eyes flickered, solidified, hardened. “ _Sevi, is the spell still in effect_?”

“ _Yes, my lady_.”

“ _That’s interesting_. Answer me again girl, who do you work for?”

“No one, no one I swear.”

“I don’t believe you.” The queen snapped. “We find you wearing my dead guards’ cloaks. We find you carrying one of their packs. We find you with my child, _my son_ , who had been kidnapped almost three weeks ago. We find you. On the run. Refusing to let my child go.”

“So, tell me again, Guinevere. Who the hell do you work for?”

Everything slowed down. Each heart beat took seconds, minutes, hours. Her chest became an echo, a cavernous reverberation of sound: whooom-whooooooomp, whooom-whooooooomp.

Gwen could not breathe.

                 _My son                  Kidnapped                                         Dead guards                         Their cloaks_

_You_

_You_

_You_

Oh my gods.

“I … I…” Gwen tried. Gwen failed. How to … black waves washed over her, the enormity of everything … how to explain. “I … I…”

“Speak up, girl. The truth won’t do you any good if I can’t hear it.”

“I … I did not kidnap your child.”

The queen’s face contorted for a breath, her hand flinched toward that sword in a second.

“ _My lady! She is not lying._ ”

The queen froze, something in the strange words making her pause. Gwen could not inhale. Gwen could look at nothing but the silver blade, the sharp line of its spine.

“ _Sevi –_ ”

“ _The spell is holding. Whatever she’s saying, it’s the truth to her._ ”

“ _I agree with Sevi, Fieri. The girl isn’t lying_.” A third voice. The man, the man standing in a dark corner. Gwen flinched a little. She wanted, so badly, to close her eyes. Just for a breath. Just for the span of one plea.

Oh gods, oh my gods.

Glancing back at the man, the queen took in a breath and exhaled sharply. “ _Very well_.” Her hand relaxed on the pommel of her sword. Gwen, too, started to breathe again. Then those amber eyes turned back on her. “You won’t get many more chances to explain yourself, Guinevere. So I suggest you talk fast. And if you do lie – you’re worse than dead.”

Gwen nodded. I understand. I understand.

The truth will out.

“I … I’m sorry,” she tried again. This time, a whisper, offering the only words she had. “About your guards. About Berren. About everything. I’m so sorry.”

Gwen blinked, and the world blurred. Chaos pouring beneath her eye lids, chaos thundering through her.

It all seemed so real – the fire burned again, the snow kept falling, and she felt the cold, the aching chill deep in her marrow.

Magic. Gwen knew. Magic was doing this. But the fire burned before her again and the truth will out.

“I am so sorry. But it was cold, after the fire. I thought I would never be warm again. All that snow. After the ash. All that snow.”

Now Gwen could see nothing but the ultraviolet flames.

“That’s when I heard the screaming. The way it echoed against all that falling snow … it never seemed to stop. Just, screaming. But when I found them, they were already dead.” The tent fell into a hush, like a burnt forest, like a tomb. “It was so still. So still,” Gwen breathed, “All twisted and bloody and so, so still.”

“It wasn’t right.” Gwen began shaking, a few tears slipping free, desperate. “I knew it wasn’t right. But they were dead. And I didn’t want to die.”

“But that doesn’t make it right. I know that. I took a cloak, a bag, their food. I took it. I’m sorry.” More and more tears, Gwen was a well, walls of blue water. “I’m so sorry.”

Gwen tried to stop, to breathe, but the memories rolled onward. Snow falling, and garnet pools, and half-heard screams, and ash, ash filling her endlessly.

“You have to understand.” She spoke in hushed tones. “You have to understand how quiet it was. That’s why I heard the screaming, the second time. That’s how I knew. Only a child makes a sound like that.”

“I followed the tracks, and I found your boy. Berren. They had him tied to a tree, the two men. He looked so cold. So scared. I couldn’t leave him there. Not with those men. They said they would … sell him. Like an animal. I had to do something. Anything.”

“I didn’t know how long the chloroform would last, after I drugged them. So we ran. Berren and I. I just – I just grabbed his hand and we ran. We had to. Get out of that forest. Get to a town. We just had to. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“So we ran.”

“And that night, in the tavern, I heard a man asking about Berren. I got scared. I thought those men from the forest had found us. So Berren and I ran. We just … ran.”

“I’m so sorry.” Every time Gwen blinked, the images of this world fell a little further out of line. She drifted, going, going, almost gone. “I didn’t mean to keep Berren from you. I didn’t want that at all.”

In the tent, nothing moved and no one breathed.

Finally, the queen spoke. “I believe you.” And Gwen’s heart jerked, a beat so sudden and shocking she thought it might rip every bone in two. “And you are very lucky that you aren’t dead,” she continued. “But, I think you already know that.”

Gwen could only nod and feel every wild heartbeat.

“ _You can release her, Sevi_.” The heat left Gwen’s body in one, great rush. Magic unspooling from between her very bones.

Oh thank the gods. Gwen slumped, a little. Thank you.

The queen leaned back a little, still studying Gwen, her eyes pensive. “That is quiet the story you tell, Guinevere. I’m not sure I would have believed it, if not for the spell. I didn’t – not when Berren first told me about you. A strange woman appears from nowhere to save him? He trusted you so easily. But then again, he’s five.” The queen shrugged. “I view things with a little more suspicion.”

Her words washed into Gwen, each breaking like a wave. Boom. Swish. Boom. Drag me under, pull me into the deep. Gwen felt herself going down. She tried not to close her eyes.

If there was a threat in the queen’s words – Gwen did not care. Benediction, repentance, no matter the black water came to sink her down.

She tried not to close her eyes.

But I am so very tired.

Words drifted to her through the film of water. Gwen tried to understand.

“Guinevere?” The queen, she was looking at Gwen with … concern? “Guinevere? Do you feel alright? Sevi – please take her to a tent to rest. It’s the least we can do.”

Someone helped Gwen stand, gently, a hand on her shoulder. Guiding her. _Thank you,_ Gwen wanted to whisper, only she didn’t know the words. _Thank you_.

“Guinevere.” Almost to the tent door. A second, a handbreadth from freedom. So close. Biting back her breath, Gwen turned to face the queen. “Guinevere, before you go, please understand.You have my thanks, for saving my son. My deepest gratitude. You have nothing to fear here, from anyone, as long as you remain with us.”

Gwen nodded. Gwen formed words, let them become sound. Gwen turned and walked. Gwen stepped into open air.

She was shaking, shaking, like fire and the flame. She was burning. She would drown.

Black water rising.


	10. Fly Caught in Amber

The fire sang, bits of ash making luminous banners.

Gwen watched, numb.

She wanted to run away.

Away from this camp. Away from these people. She wanted wild mountains, crystalline air, the snow in shades of lavender and mauve and cerulean. She wanted to flee to the high, open spaces.

Gwen closed her eyes. Behind her lids, the fire made a pattern of shadows. Crickle. Crack. Creak. Crickle. Crackle.

She tried to breathe.

But had become so hard to take in air. And she was tired. So tired. And far from home, far from anything that once felt familiar. Even her clothes, the skin on her back – Gwen bit her lip, bit down hard. But the tears spilled free anyway.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to see father. She wanted to hold a friend’s hand again. One more time.

Over and over, tears leaked down her body.

She wanted to go home.

But the night stayed dark and the fire sang out and the earth retained its stubborn grip on Gwen.

So she clung to it, fingers digging in.

In the darkness, Gwen would see figures pass by her small fire. They never stopped to talk. She didn’t care. Didn’t want them to. Didn’t want anything to do with this place, these people.

Berren was safe now. Tomorrow – she could almost taste the wild, open spaces – she could start walking again.

So close, a hairsbreadth from freedom.

“Would you like some soup?”

Startled, Gwen jerked around and nearly fell over. “Huh – what?”

“Soup, would you like some?” A woman stood at edge of the fire light, two steaming bowls in her hands.

Gwen tried to slow her heartbeat and swallow the taste of adrenaline. “Umm. Sure.”

Passing one bowl to Gwen, the woman sat on her left. They sat there in silence, eating soup and staring at the fire.

Setting the empty bowl between her feet, Gwen said, “Thank you. For the soup.”

“Off courmse – sorry, talking with my mouth full. Bad manners. Of course, not a problem. And I should probably have introduced myself before now – I’m Astal.” She stuck out a hand. Carefully, cautiously, Gwen reached out and shook it.

“Guinevere. Gwen.”

“I know.” Astal replied, a light laugh in her voice. “Believe it or not, your arrival caused quite the stir.”

“Yeah,” Gwen murmured, looking away, into the fire. “Yeah.”

Silence ballooned between them, filling every crack and crevice and space. Pressing down.

“I’m sorry, about the others.”

Once again, Astal’s voice startled Gwen, jerking her out of reverie. “What?”

“The others,” Astal gestured out toward the rest of camp, “I’m sorry. About their behavior. These past few weeks have been … hard. On all of us. _Arganlee_ , my people don’t trust them on a good day. Now … well...”

“Argaanli?” Gwen couldn’t help asking.

Astal gave her a weak smile, “Outsiders. Sorry.”

Gwen nodded and looked into the fire.

Silence. Stretching and soon, it will break. Gwen couldn’t help herself, couldn’t tamp down the urge to say, softly, “You’ve been out here for weeks?”

Astal nodded, wrapping her arms around her shins. Staring, like Gwen, into the flame. “Three, to be exact. Since Berren was taken. We haven’t slept much, to be honest. Even at night, when we can’t travel any further.”

“Like I said, it’s been hard. Especially on Fieri. She tries to hide it, but that was her son out there. Those _talak_ , scum of the earth, kidnapping a child, dragging him into their gods-forsaken crusade.”

“Their _Sarahedo_ will pay for this.” Astal looked into the fire. “She’ll pay for everything.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Gwen said, lost.

Coming out of her reverie, Astal sat a little straighter and rubbed a hand against her eyes, “Where did you say you were from?”

“Camelot, a long time ago. Now, nowhere really.”

“So you wouldn’t know. To be fair, I didn’t until a few years ago. Or at least, I didn’t think it was real. Couldn’t believe it.” Her eyes drifted back to the fire again, lost. “None of us could. Except Fieri. But even then – I’m sorry.” Astal gave her head a shake and smiled briefly at Gwen. “I keep drifting.”

Astal took a deep breath and leaned back. Her voice got a little softer, a little deeper. “I had heard about the people in the mountains all my life. Sometimes they attacked villages, but – being scared of them was like being scared of ghosts. Something to worry about on cold, dark nights. Nothing more. They didn’t really exist, to me.”

“That changed right about when I joined the Guard, oh gods nearly four years ago. Suddenly the raids were more frequent, more organized. The mountain people, they started stealing crops. Lots of them. And tools. And weapons. If someone happened to get in their way … let’s just say a lot of villages started holding funerals.”

“Everywhere the mountain people went, a name followed. Sarahedo. Sarahedo. Sarahedo. Carved into walls and shouted by prisoners and yelled out during raids. Sarahedo.”

“That name, that fucking name. Everywhere, everywhere. It was chaos,” Astal whispered, “those first few months were chaos. We never knew where the next attack would be. We couldn’t keep our people from dying. And always, always, that name. Sarahedo.”

“It means ‘The White Flame’. From what we’ve learned, she’s an albino. Sarahedo isn’t even her real name – it’s Threndi. Probably born in some hut, but the people up in the mountains took one look at her and treated her like a god.  They think she’ll save them, give them what they rightfully deserve, whatever that means. They’ll do anything for her, anything at all. Kill, fight, die. Kidnap an innocent child.”

Gwen pulled her cloak tighter, feeling the cold and dark of the night, “The mountain people did this to Berren?”

Astal nodded tightly, “We think so. Hold him for ransom and force Fieri to meet their demands – it’s not a bad plan, except it didn’t work. Those men who took Berren? We’ve been tracking them since the beginning. Nearly caught them more times than I want to admit. Klara and Nepra got so close, before they died.”

Two bodies. Gwen saw them in a sudden flash. Garnet halos and ice slowly forming a second skin.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, not knowing what else to say. “Were they you’re friends?”

Astal made a half-shrug, shoulder jerking up, then down. “I knew them.”

After that her voice faded, and a long silence came. Finally, in a deceptively light tone, Astal said, “Anyway. I should be getting these bowls back to Telen. He’ll be wondering where they’ve gone off to.”

“Yes, thank you,” Gwen passed her bowl to Astal gracelessly, sudden unsure where what to do with her hands, her arms. “Thank you.” Gwen repeated, uselessly.

“Of course, it was nothing. And like I said, don’t take how anyone is acting personally. We’ve just … been through a lot, lately.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” More than you know. We’ve all lost so much.

“Well, uh, good night Gwen.” Astal raised the bowls in an awkward farewell.

“Good night, Astal.”

\+ + +

“ _You know, if you actually dealt with your paperwork, we wouldn’t be in this situation_.”

“ _What situation would that be_?” Fieri glanced back at Kant.

“ _Me, looking through stacks of paper at midnight to find the one letter we need_.”

“ _You like it. It makes you feel needed_.”

“ _Midnight, Fieri, it’s midnight_.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “ _Keep your voice down, you’ll wake Berren_.”

“ _That child could sleep through an avalanche_ ,” Kant muttered, albeit quietly. A minute passed and then he said, “ _Close that tent flap. Or all three of us are going to catch a cold_.”

“ _Such a worrier_ ,” she said, stepping back into the warmth of tent and cradling Berren a bit tighter against her chest. He stirred for a moment before slipping back into sleep. In and out, Fieri felt his breath rush in and out. Burying her nose in his hair, she breathed in the smell of him, warm and clean. Something in her chest went tight, like a bruise.

“ _You should go get some sleep_ ,” Kant said quietly.

Fieri didn’t bother to look up. “ _I’m fine_.”

“ _No, you’re exhausted_.”

“ _I don’t mind staying up – you need someone to make sure you actually get through that paperwork_.”

Kant picked up all the papers and dumped them on one corner of the table. “ _Oh look. It’s done. Well then, goodnight_.”

Fieri huffed out a laugh, but before he could get very far, she said, “ _Kant, wait a moment_.” Going over to a chair, Fieri collapsed into it, letting Berren’s weight fall against her chest. She closed her eyes. They ached, tight and sharp. Sleep, she should sleep. Instead – “ _I know it’s late, and we’re both tired. But there’s something … it’s not sitting right with me_.”

Kant took the chair next to her. “ _What is it? Threndi_?”

“ _No, no_.” Fieri waved her free hand. “ _No_.” She shot him a half-amused glance. “ _You’re going to think I’ve gone crazy_.”

Kant leaned forward, “ _Try me_.”

“ _Do you remember – gods this was ages ago – we were invited to the wedding of Camelot’s king_?”

“ _Vaguely_.”

Fieri nodded, “ _I wouldn’t either, except the romance of it all struck me. King Arthur, marrying the serving girl who had won his heart. Desian went in my place. He meet the future queen, said she and Arthur seemed very much in love. But, on the day of ceremony, the wedding was canceled. The queen-to-be disappeared. Rumor had it that Arthur banished her for ah … getting a little too friendly with one his knights_.”

Kant shrugged. “ _Fascinating history lesson, but –_ ?”

“ _Always so impatient_.”

“ _It is now past midnight_.”

“ _I know, I’m sorry. But this is important. Anyway – when Des got back, he told me all about the young woman. The whole sad tale. He said…_ ” but here she paused, staring at the tent walls. Past them, through them, into darkness. “ _He said her name was Guinevere_.”

Kant froze. “ _You don’t think_?”

“ _I do. And, according to Des, the Guinevere he met looks just like the woman who saved my son_.”

“ _My gods_.” Kant sank back into his chair. “ _But – if it’s true – that would explain a few things_.” He muttered softly, “ _that might just explain everything. What are you going to do?_ ”

“ _For now? Nothing. That past doesn’t change anything, though it certainly answers some questions_. Fieri placed her cheek against Berren’s soft head and went quiet. Finally, she said, “ _I wonder what she was going_?”

“ _Hmm_?” Kant replied, only half-listening.

Fieri spoke a bit louder, “ _Where Guinevere was traveling to, before all this happened_.”

“ _Probably to some town, looking for work_.”

“ _Mhmm_.” Then, “ _Did you just fall asleep_?”

“ _Hm – what, no_.”

“ _Sure. Go to bed Kant_.” Fieri laughed. “ _Nefir is going to have my head one of these days if I don’t start letting you sleep at normal hours_.”

“ _Oh, he’s fine. Says having me around less keeps things exciting when I do show up_.”

“ _I really did not need to know that_.”

“ _Sweet dreams_.” Kant waved and left the tent.

Fieri rolled her eyes and murmured to Berren, “ _Alright, little one. Let’s go get you tucked in_.” And something in her heart seized up, just a little. Something ached.

+  + +

Thick caramel to cream to tea with milk and honey. Drizzled down the walls of the world. A steady pour of light. Oh gods, my cup overflows.

Humming wind filled the high grass. It carried the scent of heather and pollen, of the burnished blue sky.

Gwen stood tall and breathed in. Her pack, a new one left in her tent, sat heavy on her shoulders. In and out, Gwen lifted her face to the light and breathed in and out. Almost, she could almost taste the dust of the road. The way a breeze rises in the morning and mist settles at dusk.

So close. She could taste it.

“Gwen – Gwen!” The woman from last night, Aste? Aster?, ran over to her. “Oh good, you’re up. We’ll be breaking camp soon. But before we head out, Fieri wants to talk with you.”

Fingering the straps of her pack, Gwen tried to slow her breathing, her raging heart. Just take one step, then another. That’s it. Just like that. Move forward.

But her muscles remembered heat pouring through them and her lungs still knew the taste of magic. And she shook, just a little.

Following Atel? Asten? through camp, Gwen found herself at a makeshift horse pen. There, standing by a chestnut mare, was the queen.

“Guinevere, good morning. I hope you slept well.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good, good.” She spied Gwen’s pack and paused. “ _Astal, give us a minute alone_.”

“ _Of course_. My lady, Gwen.” With a nod in the queen’s direction, she left.

Fieri didn’t say anything, just ran her fingers through the horse’s tangled mane as Astal footsteps crunched into the distance. Gwen stared at the horizon line, waiting.

She was so close.

Finally, the only sounds were the wind blowing through tall grass and horses, nickering.

Sighing, the queen said, “Ready to leave so soon?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I don’t blame you,” she replied, still not looking at Gwen. “I’d want to leave here, too. We, ironically, kidnap you, subject you to drugs and spells, and then say, ‘oh, sorry, our mistake’. No, I wouldn’t stay here either.”

Gwen could only nod, keeping both eyes on the horizon line.

Finally, the queen turned, moving so her eyes met Gwen’s. Fly caught in amber. Gwen could not look away.

“Guinevere. What I said yesterday – it wasn’t enough. You do have my thanks, my gratitude beyond words for saving my son. My little one. But you also have my apology, for everything. The suspicion, the fear, the hurt you endured. I am sorry.”

Boom-boom, boom-boom. Gwen felt her heart rattle. Boom-boom, boom-boom.

“My lady. Thank you.”

Fieri nodded, giving Gwen a half-smile tinged by shadow. She said, “I understand if you still wish to leave. But you’re welcome to stay as well. We can help you get to where ever you need to go.”

“That’s a kind offer, my lady.” Gwen said, her chest aching. “But I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Then travel home with us.” Fieri’s eyes caught Gwen’s once more. “It’s a seven day journey back to our capitol city, Analii. You are welcome to live and work anywhere in my kingdom.”

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Gwen planted her feet and tried to take air in and out.

“Take some time to think it over, Guinevere. We leave in two hours. Let me know then.”

In and out. In and out. The world narrowed down to sound of air going in and out, a high, whistling wind.

Gwen felt her heart shake. So close to the horizon line. So close her feet could almost touch it. Boom-boom, boom-boom. Shaking, shaking. So close.


	11. Sarahedo

I did not think I would ever feel this tired.

This bone-thin.

A mountain, worn down strand by strand.

In my life, I have been worn down strand by strand.

I am my mother’s daughter.

Strand by strand.

I am a fighter, my mother’s daughter.

I am so tired.

I will never stop fighting.

Can never stop.

Will never.

There is a price to silence.

How can you ask me to pay it?

As they cry to me.

In streets and hovels and gaps between their final breaths.

My people reach out to touch me.

To hold me.

To be saved.

Strand by strand.

I am being consumed, strand by strand.

I offer my body.

Every breath and every limb.

I have never been this tired.

A mountain, corroding and renewing, losing and growing.

Strand by strand.


	12. Hypra-Motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all:) Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Life, well, happened. 
> 
> But, as my (almost) New Year's resolution, I'm going to try and update consistently. Try being the operative word.

Gwen stuck out her tongue, breathing in sharp air. Fine mist poured down the sides of the mountains, carrying the memory of ice and snow.

Her bones hummed in sympathetic remembering.

In the distance, a storm boiled, far-off thunder beating itself against the mountaintops. A grey day rolled into steely dusk. No one spoke much.

Gwen kept her eyes down, bowed by the weight of the rain. Walls of grey water. Walls falling through her. She kept her pack close.

She could not bear it. She did not want to carry it all.

In a day, in two days, in breath’s beat, it would be time for her to leave. Walk away from there people. A new town. A new job. A new name. A hope for something better than everything that came before. And - because Gwen wasn't stupid - one day more roads, the endless walking.

Wind-swept dust and crystalline air and mountains, far off in the distance. Aching and the miles and her. Again.

Gwen wasn't stupid. She held tight to the straps of her pack.

One day. One day.

The afternoon rolled into dusk. Dark and heavy. Mountains loomed and the thunder came for the kill. Their party stopped for the night in the thin shelter of a rocky outcropping. No one lit  a fire. Someone tried to set up a tent, and they all got a few minutes amusement watching it blow away.

But the laughter faded quickly.

Too long in the mountains, they had been wrapped between these peaks too long.

Gwen felt the tight threads of anxiety moving in the group, felt those same threads caught inside her. Astal’s stories about the mountain people swam before her eyes. No matter how Gwen blinked the half-seen mirages of creeping figures refused to fade.

All around her, people had settled down, wrapped tightly in cloaks and trying to sleep. A few sentries stood watch over the darkness. And the rain pounded down.

Gwen blinked and blinked, Astal’s words echoed in her head.

Gwen blinked and blinked. The corners of her eyes kept catching the edges of movement.

Gwen blinked and blinked. Because she knew the darkness.

Old friend. We walked together many times in the after effects of light. Old friend, you know the weight of me. And I of you.

And I of you.

Gwen blinked. She wasn't hallucinating. Shapes moved in the night that did not belong.

This much I know is true.

This much.

Rain roared down and Gwen’s eyes were clear. In the stillness of the camp, half not daring to breathe, Gwen crouched and moved towards Astal’s huddled form.

“Astal.” She hissed, shaking the other woman’s shoulder. “Astal!”

“Mmm - what?”

“Astal, please, wake up.” Gwen felt a thousand eyes crawling over her. Any moment. “There's somebody out there.”

Astral blinked, her eyes bleary and slowly coming into focus. “The sentries…”

“It's not the sentries.” Gwen replied, lacing her voice with every ounce of conviction she could find.

At Gwen’s tone, Astal jerked fully awake, nearly falling over in her haste to stand up. Gwen grabbed Astal’s shoulders, steadying her.

Rain thundered down, a million black walls. Closing in on them. Locking the world down. Astal looked into Gwen’s eyes, black pools reflecting back black pools. The same height. It startled Gwen to recognize this, in the half seconds before the world spun forward again.

The same height. Near the same age. Eyes, skin and hair - they might have been cousins. They might have traded places. Everything could have been different. Everything could be changed.

Do not close your eyes. Not this time.

Rain cascaded down. The world surged forward.

Astal spoke, her voice barely cutting through white noise. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Gwen breathed out. “Yes.”

“Great.” Astal grabbed Gwen’s hand, dragging her through the storm. Eyes wide open, eyes nailed shut. The darkness breathed against Gwen, every inch of it against every inch of her.

Hold on. Holding me down. Never let me go.

Stumbling, blind in the water, Astal and Gwen moved forward. So slow, Gwen couldn't move any faster, she wanted to yell out, they were moving so slow.

So - her face hit Astal’s back. Gwen stumbled back, barely catching herself.

Astal was talking to one of the sentries, almost yelling above the storm, “ _Auri, they're out there, the mountain people, Gwen saw them_.”

“ _Are you sure_?”

“ _Yes - Auri_ ,”

“ _Astal. Are you certain?_ ”

“ _Yes. We have to get everyone moving, now._ ”

“ _Ok. Ok. Get the others, circle up. I've got the sentries. But for the love of gods, do it quietly. If this is an ambush, I don't want those bastards to know we’re ready and waiting._ ”

Another tug on her hand, another step, another fling toward the abyss. Astal pulling Gwen close behind her. “It's going to be an ambush. We have to wake everyone up.”

We have to run. We're already running out of time.

The unspoken words followed their footsteps, ghosts dancing between rain drops.

Always a step behind Astal, Gwen found herself shaking shoulders, saying over and over, “You have to wake up. You need to get up.” Over and over. Even if the words were so much water. Over and over.

Bodies rising up, stumbling together, a river in their own right. Jostled right and left, disoriented in the darkness, Gwen lost every bearing. She wanted to call out, but didn't know the words to say.

Her back to others’ backs, faceless, nameless skin. Pressing together, a huddle of bodies, ready and waiting.

For what?

Swords held in hands, fine silver tips on the edge of being set loose. Eyes staring out into the featureless sky, sky all around them.

Waiting.

For what?

Gwen tried to breathe. For what? She held a knife, that old gift from an even older man who understood. The roads play by no one’s rules. She griped the knife tight. And waited. Every body around her, waiting.

Why?

Dawn came, the slowest stain.

This was why.

There were bodies out there. Waiting. To creep. In the palest smear of that stain, they started moving. It’s an ambush, darling.

Me? Why, I'm here to cut your throat.

They weren't expecting resistance, but a few swords won't stop their plan. Fight me, if you dare. I have already lost everything.

This was why.

The dawn descended into screaming.

\+ + +

Gwen’s chest snapped shut, a set on locks clamping down. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Not working.

Breathe. Kept it steady. Keep it slow.

Not working.

Bodies breaking everywhere, people darting right and left. Rising out of twilight, collapsing into mist.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Oh gods.

She knew that scream. How many days does it take to learn the tenor of somebody else? She knew that scream.

Gwen started running.

Forms rose and fell, smoke with sharp edges. Gwen ran. Nearly tripping, nearly falling, forward momentum her only grace. Seconds take minutes, take hours, out here. She ran.

Through the thick, blue light, Gwen heard another scream.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

Astal fell back, clutching her arm. She couldn't take another blow like that, she couldn't … Gwen hit the man hard enough to send them both flying. Scrambling to her feet, Gwen saw a figure approaching.

Knife out. Sharp, simple, ready to gut her open like a fish.

Gripping her own knife and peddling backwards, Gwen felt her back hit a rocky wall. No where to run, then. A bad place to die. He walked closer and closer. A sad place to go. She wanted to close her eyes. Closer and closer. Just for a second. Closer still. Just to see it all, one last time. Closest.

But I will not close my eyes.

Not this time.

She could see the whites of his eyes. My gods forgive me. Gwen did not wait for him to strike. Not this time. Darting forward, she swiped her knife at his stomach, just like Arthur taught her. You have to mean it. As much as it hurts, even as it hurts. You have to let that go, and mean it.

I learned well.

So the blade sank deep and the man stumbled away, screaming. Time flowed around her like dark honey and the world narrowed down. To this. The hot spray of blood, the weight of a knife, a shaking palm, and a man. Screaming.

Time stretched to a breaking point, the final edge of a second. Shaking, shaking. Screaming, screaming. Gwen began shaking.

I will not close my eyes.

Astal appeared at Gwen’s side, panting slightly. Around them, the fighting raged on. Dawn broke, an egg cracked onto the rim of the world.

Seconds had passed. Seconds only. Gwen took her own long breath.

I will not close my eyes.

With Astal at her back, Gwen rejoined the fray. Her knife broke another man’s skin and everything, everything broke into hypra-motion:

The long, slow drag of death as it comes. Suddenly.


	13. Drumbeat

“ _How the hell did they find us, Kant_?” Fieri gazed out towards the horizon line, her voice tight. They have been riding for hours, only just leaving the mountain peaks behind. “How the hell.”

Beside her, Kant stared down the same line. More than anything, he want to crawl into a bath and never emerge.

How the hell, indeed.

Fieri rolled her shoulders, fighting with tension. The need to run, to fly, to let loose and be surrendered to the wind.

The need to be anywhere but here.

“ _There's no way her spy networks have gotten that advanced._ ” Fieri said, frustrated. “ _We would have known, we would have heard something_.”

“ _Let me go get Nefir, he can -_ ”

“ _No. No._ ” She waved a hand. “Let him be. He’s…” A twist in the saddle, “ _Is he really sleeping while riding a horse? Again? That husband of yours is going to break his neck one day_.”

“ _I know_.” Kant deadpanned. “ _But then I get to all his stuff for myself_.”

“ _You hopeless romantic_.”

“ _If you say so, my lady_.”

Fieri flipped him off. Subtly.

Not bothering to respond, Kant couldn't help turning around to see that Nefir was, indeed, asleep in the saddle. Idiot.

Off behind him rode Astal and Guinevere, chatting quietly. Kant’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“ _She handled herself well, during the battle._ ” Kant started a little, not realizing Fieri had drifted so close. He only nodded. Fieri continued on, ignoring him. “ _From what I understand, she saved Astal’s life. Yet another debt of gratitude we owe her_.”

“ _You aren't thinking -?”_

“ _Don't worry, I won't do anything dramatic._ ” A beat of silence. Fool that he was, Kant relaxed. “ _I'm thinking of asking her to train for the Guard_.”

“ _What_?” Kant nearly jerked his horse to a halt. “ _Are you serious_?”

“ _Do I look like I'm joking_?”

Gods damn it, no. He hissed anyway, “ _You can't be serious_.”

“ _One day Kant,_ ” she sighed, turning back to the horizon line, “ _One day you will simply trust me on this_.”

“ _As your second-in-command it is my duty to mention the faults of this … plan_.”

“ _She rescued my son and saved Astal’s life. I'm not worried about Guinevere stabbing us in our beds_.”

“ _Maybe you should be_.”

“ _Kant!_ ”

He held up his hands, “ _What I am trying to say is, we don't know this girl. We don't know her at all_.”

“ _Who do we know, really? One day, Aurilean could wake up and choose to burn the castle down. I'm not about to lock him in the dungeon._ ”

“ _Fieri. You know that's not what I'm saying_.”

“ _I know._ ” She scrubbed a hand across her face. “ _But I cannot live by this fear. Our people’s fear. My mother’s fear. Not anymore. Guinevere was good during the ambush, better than good. I want to see her train. And I owe her a life_.”

“ _Is that final?_ ”

“ _Yes_.” Fieri did not break eye contact with the horizon.

“ _Very well then._ ”


	14. Sarahedo

They burned.

I did not think … I would see my people. Burned. My own.

What have they done to you?

What have they done?

Painted in your ash. I am covered and buried and scared. I am shaking, a little.

I wish I could bring you home.

It will have to be enough. It can never be enough.

Your fathers and mothers and sister and brothers, your wives and husbands and children. Your own.

It will never be enough.

I am so sorry.

I hold you in my hands and I can still smell your blood where it soaked the mountains. Where they spilled it. Where you fell.

How can they not have taken enough?

Land and crops and lives, and still more. Still more. We fight for the scraps, the mere scraps to survive, and still they beat us down. Spill our bodies like so much water. Oh my gods.

Oh my gods. Oh my people. Let me bring you home.

Find peace. Find rest.

From salt you were born, and to salt you shall return. Life unto life. Strand by strand.


	15. Two Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See, I promised I would post more frequently:) Now let's see how long this lasts.

Two Years Later:

Illari walked into the courtyard, “ _Alright, settle down. Next time I ask, you’re all running laps_.”

Groaning, people reluctantly quieted, forming themselves into a line. In the shuffle, Gwen found herself pushed the front. Turning, she saw Astal give her a panicked shrug.

Maybe if she could - “ _Ah, Gwen, so nice of you to volunteer_.”

Too late. Turning back around, Gwen gave Illari a saccharine smile. Illari just grinned back, the older woman's short, grey hair glinting in the sun. “ _You and Adali haven't spared in a while. Let's see how you do_.”

Gwen tried not to wince. She wasn't entirely sure she succeeded.

Giving Gwen another smile, Illari gestured to the ring. Grabbing a blunted blade, Gwen ceded to her fate.

Adali followed close behind, batting her lashes at Gwen, nasty as a viper.

Well fuck you, too.

Gwen managed to get one breath in before Adali lunged. The bout didn't last long. A minute of trading blows and then, bam, Adali kicked her boot into Gwen’s chest so hard that, hours later, her ribs still ached.

That night, Gwen picked over her food.

“ _You okay_?” Astal asked, mouth half full of potatoes.

“ _Fine_.” Gwen muttered. “ _Just sore_.”

“ _Adali is a real bitch_.”

“ _Agreed_.” Cam dropped into the seat next to Astal. “ _I heard what she did in the ring. That was a low blow, metaphorically speaking_.”

“ _Cam!_ ” Astal placed a hand on her forehead, feigning shock. “ _You, being nasty? Now I've seen everything._ ”

“ _Shut up_.” He shoved her shoulder, smiling a little. “ _Adali annoys everybody. I'm pretty sure even Fieri doesn't like her_.”

“ _Yeah,_ ” Astal replied. “ _But they're cousins. Dislike is practically required_.” At that, both Cam and Astal looked at Gwen. She managed to give them a wane smile.

Cam’s face turned serious. “ _Don't let it eat at you Gwen. Seriously, no one cares_.”

Gwen shoved a loose strand of hair out of her face. “ _The entire castle knows I literally got knocked on my ass this morning. It's … it's … oh gods, what's that word?_ ”

“ _Embarrassing?_ ” Astal offered, helpfully.

“ _Yes. Embarrassing_.” But Gwen didn't get any further. Just then Auri entered the hall. With barely a ‘Hi guys’ he proceeded to kiss Cam.

“ _Dear gods_ ,” Astal muttered, “ _every single time_.”

“ _They haven't seen each other in two weeks_.” Gwen philosophically offered, momentarily broken from her mood.

“ _Two weeks, not two years. They have their tongues down each other’s throats_.”

“ _It is kinda sweet. How happy they are to see each other_.”

“ _Sweet … gods, get a room_.” Astal poked Auri’s shoulder. Hard. 

Finally, Auri leaned back. “ _That’s the plan_.”

And Cam - sweet, reserved, Cam - winked. At that, Gwen did laugh a little.

Auri grabbed Cam’s hand, bringing him to his feet. “ _Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat…_ ”

Astal laid her head on the table and said, voice muffled, “ _No, no. Please go_.”

Looking over his shoulder, Cam gave Gwen an apologetic smile. “ _Go,_ ” Gwen said softly, “ _Seriously. I'm fine._ ”

Not bothering to listen anymore, Auri pulled Cam from the hall, their fingers still tightly intertwined.

“ _I hope they never change_.” Gwen murmured, watching their retreating figures.

“ _Oh gods, I do_.” Astal returned to her potatoes. “ _I know they've only been married two months, but my poor eyes can only handle so many make-out sessions_.”

“ _Still_.” Gwen's voice got soft. “ _I want them to be old and grey and happy and never change_.”

Astal put down her knife and fork. “ _You're still worrying about Adali, aren't you?_ ”

“ _So what if I am?_ ”

“ _Brooding isn't healthy_.”

“ _Neither is being pestered to death._ ” But Gwen didn't need Astal’s sharp look to hear the sulkiness of her own tone. “ _Fine. Yes. I'm worrying. It's just … something about her. I can hold my own in the ring, I know I can, but then Adali shows up with her perfect hair and her perfect skin and her perfect teeth and -_ ”

“ _Her teeth?_ ” Astal interrupted, but Gwen ignored that.

“ _And all of a sudden I feel like some bumpkin picked up off the road who has never seen a sword before._ ”

“ _Well, we did grab you off the road_.” Astal offered. Seeing Gwen’s face, she added, “ _Not helping?_ ”

“ _Not really_.”

“ _Alright._ Well, at least eat your soup before it goes cold.”

Sighing, Gwen said, “ _I'm really not hungry. I'll meet up with you later, ok?_ ”

Astal looked concerned, “ _Gwen, are you -_ ”

“ _I'm fine. Really. I just need some air._ ”

“ _Ok._ ” Astal looked skeptical. “ _But come by my room later. I want to make your ribs are alright._ ”

“ _They are also fine._ ”

“ _Liar. Stop by_.”

“ _You're such a mother hen_.”

“ _I'm a healer. Nagging is in my blood_.”

“ _Alright, alright_.” Gwen agreed, mostly to stall anymore protests. “ _See you later_.” Not waiting for a response, Gwen walked out of the dining hall. She could already taste it. Open sky. The sharp hint of rain. Dust rising up. A whiteout.

+++

Gwen leaned back, let the night fill her lungs. Let it go.

Indigo permeated the darkness so thoroughly Gwen could touch it, taste it, feel it roll down her tongue.

Slowly, the sickle moon rose overhead and a warm wind blew. Spring, if only this winter would end.

Exhausted, Gwen let her eyes drift half-closed. Let the nighttime cover me, consume me, write my body into other narratives, not dreamed of lives.

Gwen found her eyes following the curve of the river. It's breaking point, where small waves danced like silvery fish, where the waters split in two to cradle either side of the city.

An island in a sea of grass.

Home, now, after these long years. Analii, crown of Analaun’s kingdom. Home. Gwen whispered the word in Entjali. Home.

She closed her eyes, dangling her legs on either side of the balcony. Unbidden, the day rose up before Gwen’s eyes. Angry and frustrated and hungry, she pressed her back against the thick castle wall, seeking any residual heat from the stones.

Nothing.

The worst part, Gwen reflected, now shivering slightly, was that she had no one to blame. Not Adali and certainly not Illari.

 

No Illari had always treated Gwen fairly, better than so many others did, especially in those first months. She had made Gwen a deal, a promise: you want to become one of the Queen’s Guard, then I'm going to train you as one of my elite soldiers. Nothing less. And if you survive, you're in.

Deal.

True to her word across the years. She never went easy on Gwen. Not once. But she never left Gwen behind, not once.

Not during hours of extra training sessions, not when Gwen hit the dirt again and again. Not ever.

Memories began to crawl through Gwen, shadows rising. Old questions live in that dark water.

How are you? She wanted to whisper.

Where have you been, these past years? What adventures have you gone on?

Do you ever miss me at all?

I miss you, too.

Piling up, all these words in her lungs. Piling up and Gwen wished she could let them out. Tell Astal and Auri and Cam the truth about where she learned to ride horses, and why she really wandered the world for so long, and why she never told them of her only brother, her beloved father.

I want to let it out.

I want to go home.

I want to speak.

History. I have a history. I remember everything. I loved them all.


	16. Beat at the Walls of My Heart

“ _Gwen_.”

“ _Ermmph_.”

“ _Gwen, get up_.”

“ _Erummpph._ ”

“ _We’ve been called to Fieri’s study_.” Beat. “ _As in now, Gwen_.”

“ _Huhh, huhhh. I’m up_.”

“ _Yes, and half naked_.”

“ _Ahg_.”

“ _Nice. Here, put on pants_.”

“ _Why … why are you in my room?_ ”

“ _So ungrateful. I guess I’ll just eat this food myself_.”

“ _Food?_ ” Gwen fell out her bed. She stopped trying to move.

“ _Elegant, really, show that move to all the men._ ”

“ _Hate you Astal_.”

“ _You know I still have the food, right?_ ” Astal leaned back as Gwen lunged forward. “ _Uh-uh, pants first_.”

“ _Really hate you_.”

“ _Pants._ ”

While Astal snickered in amusement, Gwen stumbled around trying to locate her clothes.

“ _Um, you need shoes_.”

“ _Do I_?”

“ _Yes. Are you five?_ ”

Tugging on boots, Gwen grumbled, “ _You promised food_.”

Astal finally stopped laughing, though it looked like a struggle. “ _You’re right, I did. Eat while we walk. If we’re late, Kant will have our heads._ ”

Barely half-awake, Gwen followed Astal down the hall.

“ _Why are you walking so fast?_ ” She muttered, rubbing her aching forehead.

Astal coughed, a poor attempt to cover another laugh. “ _Because I didn’t stay out cavorting until sunrise_.”

“ _More like 2 a.m_.” Gwen responded. “ _Auri and Cam were buying the drinks_.”

“ _Mistake number one_ ,” Astal said sagely. “ _Cam can drink anyone under the table_.”

“ _Well, now I know that. And can you … talk a little quieter?_ ”

“ _WHAT?_ ”

“ _I hate you_.”

“ _Eat your roll_.”

When they finally reached Fieri’s study, the six others in their unit had already arrived. Jasa, Skirai’s second-in-command, chatted quietly with Decker. Auri and Cam stood near the fire, Auri looking significantly worse for wear. He gave Gwen a commiserating wince. Cam, the bastard, just smiled brightly.

Gwen could barely hide her flinch when Fieri and Kant shut the door behind them. Loudly.

“ _Good morning_.” Fieri leaned against her desk, her face serious, “ _I’m sorry to have woken you all so early. This morning, we learned that Threndi and a small group of her soldier are on the move. It seems she’s meeting a war lord from the southern mountains_.”

Fieri paused, then something in her voice went sharp. Vicious. “ _We finally have our chance to take her. To end this, once and for all_.” Her eyes softened a little, at edges. “ _I have asked so much of you all, these part years. So much. And yet, you have not hesitated to risk everything for this kingdom, for your people._

“ _Now, I find myself asking you to sacrifice once again. Go after Threndi, hunt her down. Drag her back here and let this war be finished. Let us be done_.”

Skirai stepped forward and bowed her head. “ _My lady, it is an honor to serve_.” One by one, around the room heads bowed.

Her voice tight with emotion, Fieri said, “ _Go now. Take ten minutes to pack. Illari is already in stables, preparing your horses_.”

\+ +  +

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

Gwen crumpled beside her bed, feeling the seconds tick away.

I’m not sure I can do this.

And I can’t breathe.

Someone knocked on her door. Panicked, Gwen tried to stand, tried to wipe her face clean, but – too little. Too late.

“ _Gwen, do you have -_ ” Cam stepped into her room. “ _Gwen! Are you alright, what’s wrong?_ ”

“ _Nothing._ ” She shoved away his hand, staying slumped on the floor. “ _I’m fine._ ”

Cam dumped his pack and crouched beside her. “ _Gwen? You’re crying._ ”

“ _No, I’m fine._ ” Her voice, so unsteady. “ _Really, you should go pack._ ”

“ _So should you._ ” He responded philosophically. But Gwen didn’t move. “ _Okay._ ” Cam sighed, sitting down next to her. “ _Do you want to talk about it? Because there’s no shame in being frightened. Threndi is … terrifying. Dying even more so_.”

“ _No, no, it’s not that_.” Gwen waved a hand, losing all her words. “ _It’s just … I don’t know_.” I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe around all the ... “ _Illari had told me, a few weeks ago I guess, that I’m close. You know, to being inducted as a Guard_.”

“ _Gwen, that’s great_.” Pause. “ _It is great, isn’t it?_ ”

“ _Of course. Yes. Of course_.” A few more tears slipped free. “ _More than anything. I want this. Joining the Guard. Becoming a citizen. More than anything._

“ _I’m so close, Cam. So close._ ” Just a hairbreadth away, wind rising through me. “ _And now, this mission. What if we fail? If I fail? What happens then?_ ” Gwen’s voice became very soft, just a trickle of air. “ _What am I supposed to do? Without the Guard? Without you all? I can’t start walking those roads again, Cam, I just can’t._

“ _I’m so tired of starting over. I can’t. I can’t_.”

“ _Oh Gwen_.” Cam pulled her close, head against his shoulder. He smelled warm, like cedar smoke. “ _Just take a breath, okay?_ ” She did. “ _Good, now another. And another._ ”

Again and again.

When her chest became steady, Cam pulled back a little. “ _Look at me. Come on_.” Finally, Gwen did. “ _I wish I knew what to say to make this better. I wish I did._

“ _And I know … you don’t like to talk about your past. And that’s okay Gwen – it’s okay. But whatever happened back then, whoever hurt you and made you this scared, don’t carry them here. Because Fieri will not abandon you. Astal, Auri, and I won’t leave you. We’re family, Gwen. No matter what happens with Threndi. No matter what. Okay?_ ” He pulled her tight for another hug. “ _Okay._ ”

Every tear a blue wall. Pouring through her. Gwen held onto Cam. And she cried.

Finally, Gwen said, “ _Cam._ ”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“ _You made it better_.”

“ _Oh, good_.” He leaned back, handing her a handkerchief. “ _Now, grab your pack and let’s get the hell out of here_.”

Just then, a knock sounded on the door and Astal yelled, “ _Oy, you ready?_ ”

“ _In a second_ ,” Gwen called back, hastily drying her face. At the sudden motion, her hangover returned in full force. “ _Oh gods,_ ” Gwen muttered, regretting so many choices.

Cam patted her shoulder sympathetically.

A little unsteady, Gwen grabbed her pack and moved towards the door. But just before she turned the handle, Cam touched her shoulder. “ _Remember. No matter what_.”

\+ + +

Three Days Ago:

“ _When you pass along the message, you must ensure they suspect nothing. Nothing_.”

“ _Of course_.” He bowed low, blood thrumming. “ _But you know my terms_.”

“ _He will not be harmed_.” She waved one hand lazily. “ _He will remain safe_.”

“ _Then consider the message already delivered_.”

“ _So loyal_.” She murmured, turning her back to him, white hair swinging like curtains of water. “ _You have always been so loyal to me._ ”

“ _Sarahedo. It is my honor_.” Blood pounding like a wild fire.

She smiled at him, flashing her whitest bones. “ _You better not be lying_.”

“ _Sarahedo._ ” He breathed, long and deep. “ _I have given everything for you. Everything_.”

“ _I know_.” She stared at him, long and hard. Silent. He went to leave, but her voice stopped him by the door. “ _Is it worth it? Betraying your people like this? Selling your soul to the devil?_ ” Another flash of those bone-white teeth. “ _Is it a fair trade?_ ”

“ _Yes, Sarahedo_.” Another bow. “ _And those are not my people_.”

\+ + +

The world went thick, like taffy, stretching on without bend, without break. The mist did not clear and the land did not end. Time beyond time, earth beyond earth.

For days.

For days.

For days.

And Gwen breathed in the sweet sweat of the road. Lullaby. And Gwen wanted to scream.

Skirai did what she could, but the long, cold nights and the long, damp days and hard, cold food wore on them.

Days and days.

On the fifth day of their journey, they left their horses in a small village. Then they climbed. Through foothills and undergrowth and long wet strands of moss. Through mist, clouds of earth. Gwen forgot what dry felt like. Even Astal stopped trying to crack jokes.

And they walked. Up and down. Down and up. Circles, it felt like circles, if circles could be made of straight lines.

Gwen wanted to scream.

Then they came to the cliff face. Amendment to the previous statement: I am definitely going to scream.

Skirai dropped her pack. “ _Alright people. We’re going to have to climb. Don’t worry, I knew about this. Bad news, one of you has to be left behind_.” She saw their tense faces. “ _Joking. I was joking. My gods_.”

Eying the cliff face, thirty feet of unstable rock and dirt, Gwen took a few steps back. Skirai liked to do things others might consider ‘patently dangerous’. For fun.

“ _We are going to die_.” Gwen hissed at Astal.

“ _Probably_.” Astal whispered back, joining in Gwen’s retreat from the cliff.

Skirai finally noticed the ten-foot gap between her and the rest of the unit. She turned around, glaring. “ _Really guys? We get over this cliff and it’s only a few more miles. To Threndi. Who we are going to ambush. Because she is a literal scourge on our kingdom. That Threndi_.”

Muttering broke out, with Cam saying something suspiciously like, “ _Yeah, but that’s a lot of fucking dirt_.”

Sighing deeply, and probably regretting most of her life choices, Skirai said, “ _Fine. Stay or go. But anyone who stays gets to spend two months working in laundry. Specifically, socks._ ”

Silence. And then:

“ _Well, I probably I can climb that_.”

“ _Really, what’s a little dirt?_ ”

“ _Uhh … if it’s this or Kant’s socks… I guess this?_ ”

Skirai clapped her hands. “ _Excellent. Who is first? Auri, you look sufficiently under-eager. Give it a try._ ”

Casting his eyes heavenward, Auri sighed. “ _For queen and country._ ”

“ _That’s the spirit. Now up you go. Oh, watch out for that rock there – no, no, other rock_.” Gwen got the distinct impression that Skirai was enjoying herself.

Astal went up next, then Decker, then – “ _Gwen. Your turn_.”

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Facing the cliff, Gwen nervously cracked her knuckles. Twice. Astal’s head popped over the edge.

“ _Come on! The weather’s fine up here_.”

“ _Okay_.” Gwen whispered, trying not to think of a long, sudden drop. Of falling. She remembered another cliff. And falling. And water and fire and a river, burying her alive. “ _Okay. I can do it. This time, I can do it._ ”

And she did. Somehow. By a miracle. Inch by inch. Bone by bone. Her feet might have slipped, but she never fell. Scrambling over the ridge, Gwen collapsed. Breath in, breath out. In, out. In, out.

It didn’t seem long enough before the others came, Skirai the last the arrive.

Taking Astal’s hand, Gwen stood, swaying slightly. “ _I am never doing that again_.”

“ _Um_.” Astal bit her lip. “ _I hate to say this, but I think that’s the way home_.”

Fantastic. Gwen started laughing, a little. Oh fantastic.

Skirai sent her a dirty look, shutting Gwen up instantly. Then, they walked the final miles.

Stillness descended among them like heavy pockets of air. Heat that refuses to rise. Gwen began to find a rhythm in her breathing, slow surusus. No louder her footsteps on the earth.

Kin of silence.

In those final miles, Gwen restlessly tracked frail lines of sunlight, pockets of bright in the mist. Sharp loam, the scent of dirt after rain. It ached in her.

The journey went on forever. Until it didn’t.

Skirai held up one hand. They froze. On a light breeze, Gwen smelled smoke. Smoke meant a fire and fire meant … she swallowed. Loud as a gunshot in an echo chamber. She swallowed again. Boom. Boom.

A fire meant Threndi.

With sweaty, shaking fingers, Gwen touched the pommel of her sword. Found grounding in the leather.

Hold on. Hold tight.

Auri slipped ahead, body moving like light through the water. Into the trees. Gwen and the others crouched low, timing their breath with the wind. Waiting. Waiting.

The sun arched overhead. The shadows grew long.

Waiting and waiting. Finally, Auri reappeared, crouching next to Skirai. Drifting closer, Gwen heard him whispering, “ _There are ten people, including Threndi. Well-armed and ready for a fight. At least three are acting as sentries at all times, here, here, and here_.” He drew a rough map in the dirt. “ _We can pick them off, but this isn’t going to be easy_.”

Skirai nodded, her face tight. The others had joined Gwen, and now the unit sat around Skirai in a half-circle.

It’s time to stop waiting.

“ _Alright_ ,” Skirai murmured. “ _Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do. Take down the sentries, then attack the main camp. Jasa, you and Gwen get the sentry to the north. Decker and Astal can handle the second at the southeast-_ ”

“ _Cam and I will get the third_ ,” Auri interrupted.

“ _Okay, good_.” Skirai nodded. “ _As for myself, let’s just say I packed a little distraction. You have ten minutes to take out the sentries before shit goes boom. And remember, Threndi is the main target. Don’t get distracted, don’t get pulled into a pointless fight, no matter how good it feels. Clear?_ ”

Everyone nodded.

“ _Now split up, good luck, and don’t die_.”

Gwen followed Jasa into the forest. They drifted. Trees and twigs and leaves, we pass as so many ghosts. Drifting.

Not a sound, just like Illari trained me. Not a breath.

Gwen could feel the seconds ticking down, every vein jumping with her heartbeat. Her thundering chest.

Stay calm. Stay easy. Drift. Just like Illari taught you.

Pausing beside Jasa’s crouched form, Gwen followed the line of her gaze. Ten feet ahead. The sentry. A young woman, leaning against a tree.

And death stalked this forest with a knife.

Gwen shivered, a little. But she did not hesitate. Following Jasa’s silent command, Gwen slid left, moving beyond the sentry’s range of vision.

Now behind her, Gwen crept forward, careful not to disturb a leaf, a twig, a breath of air. If only her heart would stop beating sound fast, if only she could swallow the bile in her throat down, down, down.

Five feet to go. Four. Three. Two. Gwen’s hands covered the sentry’s mouth, her throat, choking the woman before she hand the chance to scream. In a second, Jasa appeared, shoving a chloroform-soaked rag beneath the woman’s nose. Holding tight.

Five. Four. Three. Two. The body slumped in Gwen’s arms. Limp. They gagged her, tied her hands and feet, and then dropped her in the dirt.

And the seconds ticked down.

Moving towards the clearing, Gwen heard bird song, trees rustling, and soft, human murmurs. Her hands shook, a little. A flash of white through the trees. Then another, and another.

Oh my gods. _Threndi_. The name a breath moving through her. _Sarahedo_. 

Closer and closer, Gwen and Jasa crept. Close enough to see everything.

Her. Gwen swallowed, compulsively. Like a bleached bone, leeched of everything living. That’s how she looked. Like a bone bleached dry.

She smiled, but nothing seemed funny. Nothing at all.

Gwen didn’t dare move, waiting, waiting for the seconds to tick down. Then came the boom.

A fire exploded in the middle of clearing, somebody screamed, and Gwen started running. Sword out, she ran.

Noise beat at her from every direction, hammer and the bell, a keening. But Gwen kept her eyes locked on a lone figure, a woman with pink eyes who looked ready for murder.

Until a kick to the chest sent Gwen spinning. Slam, into the dirt. Training, years of it, took over.

Gwen rolled, got to her feet, blocked a blow that would have sliced her in two. Responded in kind. Ducked and weaved and never dropped her guard. Did drop her guard, and got a cut on her arm for the trouble.

Bleeding, aching, angry – Gwen felt something in her breath calm. Go slow. The eye of a cyclone. She lunged, smashing her blade into the man’s knee. He crumpled, screaming. No time to hesitate: Gwen kicked his face, nose cracking under pressure.

He passed out, sword slipping free.

Threndi, where was … “ _Gwen!_ ” Auri, running towards her, “ _Gwen, take him, Threndi – she got –_ ”

“ _Go!_ ” Gwen yelled, gripping her sword tightly. “ _I got him_.”

I hope.

Built like a bear. Short, squat, and full of animal rage. And she stepped right into his path. Auri disappeared behind her into the trees. And the thing turned his eyes on her. Grinning.

Oh gods.

Gwen caught his first blow. Then the second. His sword was thicker than her wrist, her hand. Third blow, then the fourth. Immense pressure, bearing down. Her shoulder, starting to crumple. His smile grew wider. Tasting her fear, liking it. As he beat her down, down, down.

Crumpled to one knee, braced against his fifth blow, Gwen unsheathed her knife and stabbed him in the stomach.

Surprise.

That smile went fixed, strained, cracking at the edges. Crumpling down. He might have screamed. Gwen couldn’t hear. Backing away, her hands and feet, scrambling away. Her bloody hands.

His body swayed forward, then back. Grinning like rictus. Forward, then – smack, facedown into the dirt.

Someone might have screamed. Gwen turned, her brain a whiteout. Someone screamed. _Gwen_. Then there were a million moments when Gwen felt the air parting around her, a metal point breaking her armor, brushing her skin with the lightest kiss. Like a lover.

A million moments, then hiss, jerk, thwap. Scream. Her shoulder twisting back, half a cyclone spinning.

Whiteout.


	17. Gone

A strange ringing. And metal.

Her ears tasted metal.

A screaming. She tasted that too.

 

\+ + +

 

 _Gwen_                                      _Gwen_

Unearthly sound came from some unearthly place.

 _Gwen_                                      _Gwen_

I am burning. I am on fire.

_Hold on.                   Keep breathing.                       Gwen._

 

\+ + +

 

Push back the sky. Keep breathing.

I am burning.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

But it hurts.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

 

\+ + +

 

Swaying. And arms around her body. Swaying.

I am burning.

Swaying. And the thunder of horses. Swaying.

Roll the lightning.

Now sing thunder, sing.

Ba-doom Ba-doom Ba-doom

I am burning.

Ash.

Swaying. In the breeze. Slipping away.

 

\+ + +

 

Going.

Going.

Gone.


	18. Sarahedo

“ _Well done_.”

“ _Sarahedo_.” He bowed, low.

“ _And they suspect nothing?_ ”

“ _Not a thing_.”

“ _Good_.” She stopped pacing, tense shoulders relaxing a breath, a fraction, a mere inch. “ _Good_.”

Their breathing expanded through the silence.

“ _When Analuan falls, we will have earned our peace, you and I_.”

He joined her at the window. They spoke in whispers, shielding the future how they could. “ _One day soon. We’ll be free_.”

“ _One day soon. One day_.” She echoed his words, her voice becoming a mere murmur. “ _I wonder what it will feel like_.”

“ _Like air, Sarahedo. Like the first breath_.” He bowed once more. Her eyes never left the horizon.


	19. Love, Gwen

How many hours?

How long have I been like this? Drifting, through gray mist.

How long?

Gwen raised her fingers, or tried to. But I want to touch you, my soft, pearlescent gray.

I want –

\+ + +

Later.

She opened her eyes later. And the light seemed real this time. It seemed. Too bright, oh gods. Gwen groaned, too bright. Her eyelids slammed down.

“ _Gwen?_ ” A hand brushed across her forehead, soft against her burning skin. “ _Gwen? How do you feel?_ ”

But her words were like so much ash. Tatters. Drifting.

“ _Go back to sleep, Gwen_.”

Okay.

\+ + +

Wake up. Wake up.

Gwen opened her eyes. For real, this time. The world looked real.

She felt – real.

Gray mist fading, going, gone. To where I can no longer touch it, you beautiful thing.

Nothing now but – Gwen groaned. Fire, lancing through her, de-boning her body. Oh gods, oh gods. Gwen tried to breathe around the pain, arrowheads through every inch of her.

A door swung open, and then, “ _Gwen! You’re awake_.”

A door swung shut, and then Astal’s face came into view. “ _Thank you gods. You scared the crap out of me. Do you have any idea how much blood you lost? Thank the gods_.” Astal sat on the edge of the bed, and Gwen closed her eyes. She let Astal’s words wash over her, drifting, drifting, gone.

It might have been hours. It must have been. Gwen could taste a stale film coating her mouth, her tongue.

Water, she needed … but Gwen got no further than sitting up. Agony, the hot molten rush of it, poured through her.

Breathe. Breathe. Don’t scream. Breathe. Breathe.

Laying very still, Gwen slowly noticed the soft rush of rhythmic breathing. Carefully turning her head, she saw Astal propped up in a chair by the fire, fast asleep.

After a while, Astal woke up, her eyes groggy and blurred. “ _You’re…_ ” long yawn, “ _You’re awake, you shouldav, oh gods my back, woken me up._ ”

“ _I’m fine_.” Gwen tried to say, except her voice sounded like crumbled gravel.

“ _Sure you are,_ ” Astal muttered, stretching and popping her back. “ _Now cut the crap. How do you feel?_ ”

Too tired to lie again, Gwen said, “ _Everything hurts like hell._ ”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Astal replied, not unsympathetically. “ _Getting shot with a poisoned arrow will do that_.”

“ _What?!_ ” Gwen sat up in shock, which was, objectively, a huge mistake. After her breathing returned to normal, she said in much more moderate tone, “ _What?_ ”

Astal sat on the edge of Gwen’s bed, her face serious. “ _How much do you remember?_ ”

“ _I know I got shot. I remember getting shot. I couldn’t … I couldn’t feel anything, but that arrow, it was sticking out of me. After that, it’s all … hazy. Was I on a horse? Astal –_ ” panic setting in now, panic because she didn’t know, couldn’t tell “ _Where the hell are we?_ ”

“ _Home._ ” Astal pressed a hand against Gwen’s collar bone, pushing her down. “ _Skirai got us home. It’s alright, it’s okay_.

“ _You did get shot. Lucky for us, the archer had terrible aim. They hit your shoulder, not your heart. Unlucky for us, that arrow was coated in a nasty little poison. You got sick, Gwen, really sick. You nearly died, I thought I had lost you a couple of times. Nothing I did seemed to work – I tried every poultice and spell I knew. All of them…_ ” Astal’s eyes drifted away from Gwen, lost to the crackling fire. Lost.

“ _Hey._ ” Gwen grabbed her hand tightly. “ _Thank you for saving my life_.”

“ _I didn’t, not really. Des, he found the antidote to the poison, he –_ ”

“ _Astal. Thank you for saving my life_.” Gwen did not let go of her hand.

“ _Yeah, well it was really nothing, but I mean. Yeah_.”

“ _Yeah._ ” Gwen smiled, a little.

“ _You should get to sleep. You need rest_.”

“ _I think I’ve slept enough_.”

“ _As the medical authority in this room, I feel qualified to override your opinion_.”

“ _I thought you said Des healed me?_ ”

“ _Shut up Gwen_.” But Astal was smiling, a little.

Slowly, Gwen her eyes drift shut, surrendering the to warmth, to the crackling fire. Half-awake, she murmured, “ _Is everyone else alright?_ ”

“ _They’re all fine. You’re our honorary casualty_.”

“ _Good, because I was worried about Auri, you know. When he ran after … oh my gods. Threndi. Astal, what happened with Threndi?_ ” In her panic, Gwen sat bolt upright. Which was, again, a terrible idea.

Helping Gwen lower herself back down carefully, Astal said, “ _Oh my gods, you really need to stop doing that. Rip your wound open and Des will never let me hear the end of it. That’s right, just lay down. Take some deep breathes. And no moving_.” When Gwen was no longer a danger to herself, Astal settled further back on the bed, tucked her chin into her palms. Unblinking, her eyes stared through the fire. Past it. Beyond.

“ _We lost Threndi_ ,” she said softly. “ _Auri tried to chase her, but she got away. Gods know how long she’d scouted that forest, planning escape routes. We got three of her lieutenants. But still, we lost Threndi_.”

“ _Oh_.” Gwen replied, softly.

Oh. All that time. All those miles. All that blood spilled. And still Threndi walked free. And still.

Gwen closed her eyes, suddenly nauseas.

“ _You okay?_ ” Astal rested a hand on Gwen’s shoulder.

“ _Yeah. Just … tired_.”

“ _Okay. I’ll let you get some rest. Just yell if you need anything – there’s always someone around_.” Smoothing the blanket down, Astal gave Gwen a half-smile before getting up and carefully closing the door behind her.

Then silence.

Alone, Gwen closed her eyes. But sleep wouldn’t come. Not as the fire burned low, not as the logs crumpled over themselves, not as the ash pulsed with a low, indigo heat. Not as the night spun on, endless.

Gwen opened her eyes. She wanted her room, her bed, her blankets, her own four walls. She wanted to go back to that briefing in Fieri’s study, she wanted to do everything differently.

I want to go home. I don’t know what that means. But I want to go home.

Gwen closed her eyes, blinking against tears. The soft noises of the infirmary – pattering footsteps, low voices in the hall, a man crying out – all became too much, too sensitive against Gwen’s skin. A few more tears slid free.

I’m tired, I’m so tired and everything hurts.

I miss you.

I miss you dad. You always knew how to make things better, and I want to come home.

I really wish you were here right now. I really miss you.

Always and always.

Gwen.


	20. A Vulture Circling in Air

It would be a lie if Gwen said she was entirely sober.

Leaning her head back, Gwen watched the fire dance, her eyes lost to the patterns. She couldn’t help smiling, a little.

At the moment, Gwen didn’t really care why Fieri had called her into her study. Didn’t care at all. Not when she felt as weightless as this.

The door opened, then clicked shut. Gwen scrambled to her feet. “ _My lady_.”

_“ _Guinevere.” Fieri embraced her in a warm hug. “Congratulations on the ceremony today.”__

_“Thank you, my lady.”  
_

_Holding Gwen at shoulder length, Fieri smiled. “The uniform suits you.”_

_Gwen couldn’t help her own smile. “It feels good.” To finally wear the uniform of the Guard, to be one of you. To be home. At last._

_Fieri gestured towards the fire, “Come, please sit.”_

_Resting her hands in her lap, Gwen said, “My lady. I want to thank you. For today. For everything. This … this has become my home, and I’ll always be grateful – more than grateful – for that.”_

_“It was a strange road that brought you here.” Fieri smiled a little sadly. “But I’m glad it did, Guinevere, I’m glad it did.” Then Fieri’s smile faltered completely, went out. “Gwen. I wish I had called you here to talk about today. But – there is something else we need to discuss.”_

_Gwen felt it then, a hot knife dropping clean through her organs. Splicing her. A heaviness seemed to sink through the room._

_Fieri continued, pain leaching into the edges of her face. “It seems Threndi is bound to disrupt all our lives. Yours especially, Guinevere.” A deep sigh. “As you know, Threndi has only grown more powerful these past years. I never thought I’d wish for the days when she and her bandits were raising havoc in the mountains, but my gods, I do._

_“War, Guinevere. We are staring down the possibility of open war. And we can’t afford to lose.”_

_Gwen could it feel it then, the darkness a vulture circling through the air, waiting to strike, aiming for the chest._

_“I am calling upon Analuan’s allies, so that when this war comes, we are not fighting alone.”_

_Circling, circling, beak sharp._

_“I wanted you to hear this first, from me. In a week, King Arthur of Camelot will be here to discuss the details of our alliance.”_

_The bolt struck. White noise roaring through her. White noise. Wiping her out._

_Gwen. Could. Not. Breathe._

_“I’m so sorry, Guinevere.” And there was real_ _pain_ _in Fieri’s eyes._

_White noise consumed Gwen, a mist, a wave, a well of rising waters._

_“Guinevere, I would understand if you preferred not to be in the city while he is here. I believe you trained in the mountains, near Brickin?”_

_Gwen nodded, half out of her body._

_“They can always use a Guard member at the fort.”_

_Gwen nodded again. A thing, beating double time on the walls of her heart. A screaming double time._

_“Whatever you decide, Guinevere,” and Fieri leaned forward, her sharp eyes urgent, “Whatever you choose, nothing changes the fact that you have a place here. Nothing.”_

_“Thank you, my lady.”_

_“Get some rest.”_

_Gwen nodded. The door opened and she was gone. Into the hallway, down stairs, across passageways, gone. Into her room, locking the door behind her, body collapsing into a little ball, gone. Gone. Gone._

I can’t breathe.

I can't breathe.

Let the white noise take me.


	21. War and Its Attendant Allies

It’s all over.

Gwen shoved everything she would need into a bag.

Shirts. Pants. Socks. Underwear. Jacket. Boots. Money. All she could carry.

So much had to be left behind. Gwen breathed harsh and ragged and loud. So much could not go with her.

Four walls. One roof. Her home.

It was all over.

To Brickin, then. To hide. High in the mountains, caught in the warm protection of distance. To Brickin, then. For however long it lasted. Days, weeks, or even – if Arthur came, and stayed, if Camelot’s armies joined the war and war dragged on – months, years.

Gwen cleared her desk with one sweep of the arm, not caring if paper and pens cascaded right off the table, right over the edge of the world.

_Knock Knock Knock_

Damn it.

Gwen paused. Didn’t answer. Kept packing.

_Knock Knock Knock_

Her door creaked open. “ _Gwen? Are you in – oh gods, are you packing?_ ”

Gwen didn’t bother to turn around. Go away, Astal. Just go away.

“ _Hey_.” Astal’s voice became concerned. “ _What’s wrong? You disappeared, and now you’re – what are you doing?_ ”

“ _Nothing_.” Gwen replied shortly. “ _Go enjoy the party_.”

“ _Without one of the guests of honor? I’ll pass._ ”

“ _Seriously Astal. Just go back to the party_.”

“ _What’s wrong with you?_ ” Astal moved into Gwen’s field of vision. Then she caught sight of Gwen’s face, tear streaked and drawn. “ _Gwen. What happened? Are you alright?_ ”

“ _It’s okay, just go Astal_.”

“ _I’m not leaving you like this_.”

“ _I said just go!_ ” Gwen yelled.

They both frozen, the echo of Gwen’s words clinging tight. Gwen couldn’t miss the sharp stutter of pain on Astal’s face.

“ _I’m sorry._ ” Gwen whispered, the fight leaching out of her, tears leaking free. “ _Astal, I’m so sorry_.”

“ _Gwen. Gwen_.” Astal pulled her into a tight hug, running a hand up and down her back, like soothing a wild horse. “ _Gwen. It’s okay. You’re okay_.”

“ _But it’s not_ ,” Gwen gasped, shaking. “ _I’m not_.”

“ _Okay, come here, let’s just sit down. Right here. Okay?_ ”

Gwen sagged into her mattress, a marionette with cut strings. She lay her head on Astal’s shoulders and stopped trying to stop the tears.

“ _I have to go, Astal. I have to go_.”

“ _Why Gwen? What’s going on?_ ”

But Gwen couldn’t. She couldn’t.

Please don’t ask me to.

Please, I can’t.

Astal intertwined their fingers, clearly at a loss. Grasping at straws. Grasping at anchors. “ _Gwen, please, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Please let me help you_.”

Floating on her mattress, no lungs, no organs, a hollow sort of light, Gwen nodded. Her body could barely register the coming trauma. Only its echo.

Time. She had always been in race with time.

Breathe, just breathe. That’s the only way through this. Just breathe.

I can’t say it.

I have to.

“ _There was this boy. And …_ ” Gwen froze. She didn’t know how to continue. But suddenly, she didn’t want to stop. Because she trusted Astal more than anyone. Because it was time to stop running. “ _And I loved him. He had the most beautiful hair. It was like – like looking at gold. And these eyes, when he smiled, they were so blue. He made me laugh. He made me smile. And I loved him_.”

“ _What was his name?_ ” Astal asked softly, curling her body closer to Gwen.

“ _Arthur … Arthur Pendragon. King of Camelot_.”

And then the whole story came tumbling out: Arthur and Merlin and Lancelot and Morgana. Camelot and Knights of the Round Table. A life, excavated across this floor. The loving. The losing. All her sins.

She spoke of the road, dust rising through her. An existence that was half-living. Village to village, job to job, beginnings that always looked like an end. The fire and mountains. The blizzard and the bodies. War, and its attendant alliances.

Everything.

And when Gwen finished, in her chest she heard the hollow ring of bells. Beginning and ending and the caroling of brass.

Neither of them broke the silence. They watched the fire burn down, shade by shade, and the night roll in. Astal kept their hands intertwined.

Finally, she said, “ _I’m so sorry, Gwen. I’m so sorry, I had no idea_.”

“ _It’s okay. It’s … it’s not your fault_.”

“ _I know. But still, I’m so sorry. Everything about this just … sucks_.”

Gwen smiled then, a little. “ _I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner_.”

“ _The way those assholes treated you? I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t have said a damn thing either. I swear, the first time I see Arthur Pendragon I’m going to rip his fucking balls off_.”

“ _Please don’t_.” But now Gwen was laughing, though it soon faded. She turned to face Astal, still half afraid of what she might find written on her friend’s face. “ _You really aren’t angry?_ ”

“ _At you? Oh gods, no. No. At him, furious_.”’

“ _But, I … I …”_

“ _You made a mistake_.” Astal stared straight into Gwen’s eyes. “ _You made a mistake. Join the fucking club_.”

“ _Astal –_ ”

“ _I’m being serious. You cheated on your fiancé. Not great, but nobody died. It’s okay Gwen_.” Astal squeezed their hands tight. “ _It’s okay_.”

Gwen started crying again, because Astal meant what she said. It was okay. Gwen was okay. It was okay.

She couldn’t remember the last somebody had said those words, said them and meant it.  

Crying out walls of blue water.

Astal never let go of her hand. “ _And you’re sure about going Brickin?_ ”

Gwen nodded, and said in a hollow sort of voice, “ _I don’t know what else to do_.”

“ _Okay then. I guess we better get packing_.”

“ _What? Astal you’re not coming with me_.”

“ _Of course I am. You think I would miss my best friend’s self-imposed exile?_ ”

“ _Astal –_ ”

“ _We do this together. Just like all our adventures before_.”

“ _You’re crazy. And this isn’t an adventure._ ”

“ _Course it is. You, my dear_ _Guinevere, are living out an epic for the ages.”_

Gwen rolled her eyes. “ _You’re still crazy_.”

“ _No arguments here_.” Astal reached up and smoothed back Gwen’s fly-away hairs. “ _I’m going to talk with Des and then do some packing, but I’ll be back soon, alright?_ ”

Gwen nodded, but she didn’t let go of Astal’s hand. Instead, in a voice soft and small, she said, “ _Astal, do you think this is a mistake?_ ”

“ _What is?_ ” Astal replied gently.

“ _Running_.”

Astal bit her lip, looking to one side. “ _Tell me, honestly_ ,” Gwen insisted.

Sighing deeply through her nose, Astal finally responded. “ _You want to go to Brickin, we go. You want to stay here, we stay. But – you shouldn’t have to run. This is your home. It’s where you belong, no matter who comes knocking_.”

“ _But if I stay…_ ” Gwen paused, unsure she wanted to say the next words aloud. “ _If I stay, then Arthur will see me, the knights will see me, and it’ll all come out. Everything. I can’t bear that Astal, I can’t watch it happen_.”

“ _Then tell people, before Arthur ever gets here_.” Astal gripped Gwen’s fingers tightly, to the edge of pain. “ _I promise, no one will blame you. Hell, they’ll probably want to beat Arthur up. I want to beat Arthur up, and consider myself pretty normal when it comes to violent tendencies_.”

“ _Astal_.”

“ _Gwen. I’m serious. You can stay, you can tell people, and it will be okay. It will_.”

“You don’t understand.” Gwen shoved her fingers through loose strands of hair. “ _Back then, when I got banished. Everyone turned on me, everyone. Arthur. The knights. Merlin, I mean, he was my best friend, like a brother. Even my real brother. Everyone just – it’s not that they left me. They didn’t leave. They just stayed. They watched. They didn’t do anything_.”

Astal’s eyes bored into Gwen, fierce and bright. “ _Then don’t run from them, Gwen. Don’t run_.”


	22. Rebel Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry it took so long to post this - hope you enjoy:)

“Arthur.”

“Yes Merlin?”

“It’s raining.”

“I am aware.”

“Really hard.”

“Your point, Merlin?”

“No point.”

“So, you’re just needlessly complaining.”

“That would appear to be the long and short of it, my lord.”

“Merlin.”

“Yes.”

“Remind me to never take you anywhere, ever again.”

“Of course, sire. But if I’m not around, who exactly will be saving your life on a daily basis?”

“This from the man who’s already fallen off his horse three times.”

“The third time was really not my fault.”

“ _Three_ times.”

Merlin laughed, then said, “It’s still raining.”

“Merlin!”

“I know, I know, _shut up_.”

In the sudden, and likely brief silence, Arthur hunkered further into his cloak. This last two weeks had been miserable, and they still another day of traveling ahead.

A sudden, freezing wind ripped through Arthur and he cursed everything in his life that wasn’t warm and dry. He also cursed Merlin, just to relieve his growing tension headache.

The long, wet night spent huddled in damp tents turned into another long, wet day spent huddled in soaked clothes. By the afternoon, Arthur would have sold his entire castle just for a bath and a dry bed. But neither seemed likely, not as he rode through a sea of grass, beaten into a watery grey sea by wind and weather.

At he wasn’t the only person feeling thoroughly miserable. One by one, the knights had fallen into a near-catatonic state during the journey. Even Gwaine had given up trying to crack jokes. It didn’t help that two weeks ago, most couldn’t have found Analuan on a map. The ones who could locate it didn’t see why they should care.

Because. Arthur wanted to shake their shoulders in frustration. Because we need allies. Because Morgana haunts us at every step, at every breath.

Because it was becoming something of a family tradition, Morgana trying to overthrow the kingdom every spring.

Because they need us. And one day, we’ll need them.

Because.

Gwaine in particular had not taken kindly to Arthur’s logical thinking. “Aren’t they the kingdom that actively tries to avoid contact with anyone considered ‘outsiders’?”

“Technically, it’s a queendom.” Leon hadn’t been able to stop himself from interjecting.

“A what?”

“Their ruler is traditionally a woman.”

“I know what queendom means, Leon.” Gwaine rolled his eyes, his tone indicating that he still had no real idea what Leon was talking about.

Arthur smiled at the memory until a gust of rain smacked him in the face.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” he hissed at Merlin, who then proceeded to laugh. Loudly.

Anything, he would give anything, for a dry piece of clothing. Or for a lightning bolt to hit Merlin’s irritatingly smug head.

Their journey never seemed to end. Arthur felt he had been riding through this washed out world forever, his entire life.

So close. Only two more hours, if the maps didn’t lie. And yet. Here they were, world without end.

It was near dark when the city rose into view, a mere mirage in the horizon. Growing closer by half-inches and degrees, lights dancing like fireflies behind a window. Closer and closer. The city grew tall, but they never seemed to arrive. Closer and closer – Arthur wanted to yell, _then why am I standing sti_ ll?

Finally. Gates opened, embracing their soaked bodies. The gray plain disappeared, but its memory clung like a rotten smell.

Following a guide who meet them at the gates, Arthur and his knights travelled up and up. They rode past homes and taverns and shops, everything that same, terrible washed-out gray. He shivered, missing with an aching sort of wish Camelot’s warmth, its spirit. He wanted, very suddenly, to leave.

He wanted, more than anything, to be godsdamned dry.

Finally, their guide stopped in a small courtyard, gesturing for Arthur and the knights to dismount. Which they did, groaning and grumbling very loudly. Merlin nearly collapsed when his feet touched the ground, but that wasn’t really a surprise.

As soon as they stepped indoors – gloriously, gloriously warm – a puddle formed beneath them. Merlin slipped on that, too. As the puddle spread outwards, Arthur noticed the unmistakable stench of wet, rapidly heating wool. Coming from them.

Nothing like a good first impression.

Gwaine’s decision to wring out his hair did not help matters. The puddle beneath their feet kept growing.

Arthur consciously forced his face into a neutral expression. “Just behave yourselves,” he muttered. “Please remember we are guests here.” Only Leon seemed to pay attention. Typical.

Moments later, Kant entered, neatly side-stepping the lake of water now filling the entrance hall.

“King Arthur.” Kant bowed, slightly. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“And you as well.” Arthur nodded his head in return.

“I welcome you and your people into our lands. As long as you reside here, our home shall be your own.”

Having been _extensively_ briefed on the protocol for this official reception, Arthur replied, “May our peoples live long in peace and harmony.”

Arthur got the distinct impression that Kant was relived he hadn’t forgotten the words and caused an international incident. Oh well, there was still time. Knowing Merlin, catastrophe would strike sooner rather than later.

“I hope your journey was not too difficult?” Kant said, stepping back to avoid the steadily expanding pool of water.”

Painfully aware of how he smelled, Arthur merely shrugged. “No, no. A little wet, but rain never killed anyone.”

“Well actually, there was an entire village that once – ”

“ _Shut up, Merlin_.”

Kant might have smiled. Or maybe his face seizured under the pressure of internal agony. Arthur understood that expression, he really did.

“Well. I’m sure you and your men would like to change into dry clothes before dinner this evening. If you will follow the servants to your chambers.” Kant gestured to a side door, where a group of people stood waiting with very skeptical expressions.

Arthur had never seen his knights move so fast, and that included the time Elain threatened to take off his boots indoors.

Kant approached Arthur, “After you’ve had a chance to rest, the queen would like to meet with you in her study.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll meet you at your quarters in one hour then.” With another slight bow of the head, Kant walked away.

One hour. He could defrost in one hour. Maybe even approach some semblance of warm. Arthur was so focused on the idea of dry clothes, he almost drowned out the sound of his feet, squelch, squelch, squelch. Almost.

\+ + +

Soaking wet. A thousand pounds of water.

One, two. One, two. Beat. Beat. Beat.

A thousand pounds weighing her down, but Gwen didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Hitting and swinging, ducking and weaving. Dancing through sheets of blue water, faster than her shadow.

Wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Won’t.

Punch it out. Punch it out.

I’m trying.

Something had to break, something had to give. Gwen hit the practice dummy harder. You first.

 “ _Gwen.                   Gwen!                                    Gwen!_ ”

Immaterial. She stayed cradled in her white out.

“ _Gwen!_ ” Someone grabbed the staff, stopping her strike in its path. Ready to eviscerate whoever just did that, Gwen whirled around. But some of fight drained out of her when she saw Auri’s face. Some.

Snatching her staff back, Gwen yelled over the thundering water, “ _What the hell Auri!_ ”

He ignored that, “ _What are you doing out here?_ ”

“ _What does it look like, Aurilean?_ ” She stalked away.

He ignored that, too. “ _It looks to me like you’re trying to beat the shit out of the only thing you can hit without consequences. Or trying to contract pneumonia_.”

“ _Go to hell_.”

“ _That’s the plan_.”

“ _Auri._ ” Gwen sighed long and deep, weighed down by a thousand pounds of water. “ _I just want to be left alone._ ”

“ _No, you don’t. You want a partner. So wrap your hands and let’s go a few rounds_.”

“ _You want me to hit you_.” Gwen replied flatly.

Auri just smiled, cold and sharp. “ _Oh, I fully intend on hitting back_.”

When Gwen didn’t bother to respond, Auri shoved his sopping wet hair out of his face and said, “ _Look, Cam and I had a fight last night, so my life is shit right now. The delegation from Camelot is arriving tonight, so your life is shit too. Now, can we please deal with this like adults and just try to beat the living crap out of each other?_ ”

Gwen grinned, a dark light flickering around the edges of her skull. “ _Let’s go till one of us drops_.”

“ _Try me_.”

\+ + +

An hour later, Arthur felt like a new man. Or at least a dry one. Shivering slightly in the castle’s corridors Arthur amended his previous statement: mostly dry.

Following Kant up a long, winding staircase Arthur tried to keep his breathing even. Two weeks of travel had left him bone tired. Merlin would mock him mercilessly anyway. Speaking of Merlin, where was that oaf? Probably already down at the tavern, Gwaine in tow.

The staircase finally ended, and for a long moment Arthur just worked at breathing really, really quietly. Kant rapped lightly on a door and then opened it, gesturing for Arthur to step inside.

“King Arthur, it’s a pleasure to meet at last.” And that must be Fieri striding towards him, warmly shaking his hand. Dimly, Arthur heard the door close behind him and Kant walk away. “Please, please come sit.” Fieri gestured towards two chairs positioned near a crackling fire. Arthur gratefully sank down. He would never, ever be warm enough again.

“I’m sorry my husband couldn’t also be here to greet you. Our oldest child just broke two fingers riding his horse. Des is healing him.”

“I hope he’s alright.”

Fieri laughed a little. “This is third time Aran has broken a bone this year. He’s not dead, so I’m not panicking.”

“Well, please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“You didn’t happen to bring a child-sized suit of armor?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Damn.” Fieri smiled. “Well, now that I’ve plunged you into the fascinating world that is parenthood, let me be a proper host. How was the journey for you and your men?”

They talked about the weather, the fact that the rain just never seemed to let up this time of year, did it? They talked about the deliberations that would begin tomorrow, discussions about troops and supplies and compromise. They talked more about all the scrapes a ten-year old child manages to get into.

They stopped using formal titles and they talked and Arthur, fool that he was, relaxed.

He just never saw it coming.

Sleepy and warm, the fire had lulled him. His shoulders rolled back against the chair, pliant and loose. Defenseless. He just never saw it coming.

“Arthur, before we go to feast, there is another matter we must discuss.”

He nodded, even smiled a little. Fool that he was.

Fieri paused before speaking, taking in a long, deep breath. “Nearly three years ago, a woman named Guinevere began training to join my Guard.”

Drop. Beat. Beat. Beat. Drop. Beat. His heart. Why had his heart stopped beating.

“I am proud to say she has since joined the Guard and become a citizen of my kingdom.”

Why. Would. His. Heart. Not. Beat.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

Why couldn’t he breathe?

“Guinevere told me long ago of her … past. With you.”

Too much. Too much he couldn’t bear to process begin to think. He couldn’t breathe.

The last air leaked from his lungs. “Gwen?” A gasp. That gasp was him.

Fieri nodded, her eyes shadowed and grave, “She lives here at the castle, with the Guard.”

A numbness trickled into Arthur and it felt good. To feel nothing. “She will be at the feast tonight,” he heard himself say.

Fieri nodded again. Watching him. Closely. Closely. “I am sure your shared history will not pose a problem, for either of our people,” she said, watching him. A vulture with two eyes on its prey.

“No.” Arthur exhaled, his lungs shaking. “No. Of course not.”

\+ + +

Shivering, aching, too cold to breathe.

Gwen and Auri stood under the eave of the armory, watching rain thunder into the practice yard.

“ _Why_ ,” Gwen gasped through chattering teeth, “ _did we do that?_ ”

“ _Well. It worked_.” Auri responded almost philosophically.

“ _Yeah. We have pneumonia_.”

Auri laughed and then looked down at his sopping wet, mud covered clothes. “ _Cam is going to kill me_.”

“ _What happened between you two?_ ”

Auri sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “ _It’s – it’s nothing_.”

“ _Auri_.”

“ _We … disagree. On things. Important things._ ” He paused. Gwen waited. “ _Look, I don’t know what Cam’s told you. About my past. But, uh, my father. He was not a good man. Squandered the family wealth, sold the house right under from our feet, and left by the time I turned ten._

“ _My mom, she was never very healthy to begin with. But then she spent years scrubbing floors and washing laundry, trying to keep us feed. I did what I could and it was never enough. She died when I was seventeen_.” Auri stared into the rain, pain lines etched through his skin. “ _I wandered for a long time after that. Lost. Finally I washed up here, worse than nothing. Desperate._

“ _I eventually got caught for stealing. Somehow, Fieri heard about my story and took pity on me. Told me I got one last chance to clean myself up. I started training as a soldier the next day. They let me into the Guard four years later_.” He sighed, and Gwen could feel the exhaustion coursing through him. “ _I try to never look back. But I can’t forget._

“ _Cam and Astal and the others. I love them, you know I do. But they have no idea_.” His voice turned fierce and low. “ _They have no idea what starvation feels like. How it breaks you down. Twists your mind. Kills you, kills you with every breath. How much it hurts. They don’t understand being that poor._

“ _So Cam and I disagree, sometimes. About how we treat Threndi, and the people in the mountains. Their claims on our lands are bullshit. But, I can understand why they want it. Those people in the mountains Gwen, they’re poor. So poor they’re starving_.” Auri spoke softly, barely audible over the rain. _“They have nothing, and they’re desperate._

“ _I think this war should be our last resort. Cam – he doesn’t see it that way. So we fight, sometimes_.” The pain lines did not lift from his skin.

“ _Auri_.” Gwen took a step closer, her hand half bridging the distance between them. “ _I’m so sorry. I had no idea._ ”

He shrugged, a jerky motion. “ _I don’t like to talk about it_.”

Gwen nodded in understanding, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. Watching the world wash away. “ _I try to never look back either_ ,” she said softly. “ _But I can’t forget. No matter how hard I try._ ”

Auri wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her close. Gwen felt the water on her face turn to salt.

Blessed be my skin.

They stood and watched the sky cave in. And the world washed away.

\+ + +

“ _Are you ready?_ ”

Gwen nodded, shoulders stiff, head loose as a marionette with cut strings. “ _Yeah_ ,” she whispered.

Astal looked at her critically. “ _You remember the signal?_ ”

“ _I claim to have a migraine, you fake a medical emergency, we go hide in your room and drink until dawn_.”

“ _Okay. Good. Because I will not hesitate to fake a seizure_.”

Gwen smiled then, a little. Astal hugged her tightly, whispering, “ _Keep that up and you’re going to be just fine_.”

As they left Gwen’s room, she paused for a moment, taking one last look into the mirror. Catching the after-images of light. Just so I can remember. Just so I can know. One more time. What I am.

\+ + +

At the feast, Arthur let his knights do the talking. He even tolerated Merlin’s drivel. It was … easier. To drift. He didn’t feel like thinking. He didn’t want to speak.

There was food. And people. And toasts. And more people.

A hot-house blur, Arthur let the hours run by. Eyes fixed to his plate, or a tapestry, or a smudge of dirt of Merlin’s cheek. There were people everywhere and Arthur refused to let his eyes focus. Not for a second.

He didn’t want to see anything.

He didn’t want to be here at all

\+ + +

Gwen had eaten anything. Eyes glued to her plate, she couldn’t bring herself to look up. Flashes of gold and vermillion danced at the corners of her eyes. She kept her eyes on the table.

I don’t want to know. I don’t think I can breathe.

Astal stayed by Gwen’s side, a comfort in her presence, her silence. Across the table, Cam and Auri kept up a low conversation, giving Gwen her space, her silence.

Oblivious, the rest of the Guard laughed and drank and smile. Oblivious. Gwen wanted to look up, ached so badly her nails cut into her palms. But her eyes stayed down. Locked. A drop of sea trapped on dry land.

\+ + +

After the feast, Arthur walked. He couldn’t bear the weight of air in his room. Couldn’t bear to lie still, thinking.

A cool breeze lifted off the river, and Arthur inhaled. Quiet. How he had missed silence these past weeks.

Quiet. He took a second breath, a real one, then a third.

From a long way off, he heard footsteps tapping against stone.

\+ + +

“ _I’m going to go for a walk._ ” Gwen murmured to Astal.

“ _You want company?_ ”

“ _No, I’m alright. Just need some quiet_.”

“ _Okay. Stop by my room after if you need a_ drink.”

Gwen nodded, then she was gone. Free of the hall, the over-saturated air. Free.

Aimless, she walked, feeling a soft, blue breeze.

\+ + +

Tap tap tap tap.

Arthur just took another breath, letting the air rise through him.

\+ + +

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Gwen drifted through corridors, aimless wandering.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She should turn back soon, it was getting late.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Oh, maybe just a little further. Gwen rounded a corner and stopped. Dead.

Tock.

It couldn’t be.

Leaning against a balcony. It couldn’t be. Vermillion cloak and golden hair. A partial cheekbone, defined jawline.

He turned. Azure eyes. And it was him.

It was him.

\+ + +

It looked just like her. It couldn’t be. Gwen. That face, those eyes. Gwen. But it couldn’t be.

Nothing seemed to work. Arthur felt his heart stop dead. Because it was.

Her.

That face, those eyes, it was all Gwen. Even brighter than he remembered. Than he dreamed.

 It could be. The impossible, standing right in front of him.

\+ + +

“Gwen.” He breathed her name.

She flinched, every nerve electrified. He said it wrong. Her name. It sounded wrong, flat and nasally. Everything felt wrong. Hairspan by hairspan, her feet inched backwards. Ready to run. In fight or flight I choose to flee.

This was a mistake.

This had all been a mistake.

“Gwen.” He stepped forward, fingers reaching out a little.

He hadn’t changed at all. Electric eyes and sun-bright hair. Chainmail and a vermillion cloak. Arthur. King of Camelot and a weight in the scales of her life. Arthur.

“Arthur.” She breathed his name. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

Gwen’s feet became still. Her chest rose and fell, rose and fell. And the hallway echoed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I should … I should go.”

And Gwen ran.


	23. 72 Hours

“ _Okay, the coast is clear_ ,” Astal said, carefully closing the door to Gwen’s room.

“ _I’m not hungry_.”

Astal rolled her eyes, “ _I don’t care. Those red cloaked bastards are nowhere to be seen and you need food_.”

“ _Not. Hungry_.”

“ _Funny, I never took you to be a glutton for public humiliation. But that’s exactly what will happen you I drag you out of here in your pajamas_.”

“ _If I go, will you shut up?_ ”

“ _Most likely_.”

“ _Fine._ ” Gwen rolled off her bed and collapsed onto the floor. “ _But I’m doing so under duress_.”

“ _Noted and ignored_.”

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Picking at her food, Gwen couldn’t muster the energy to join Astal and Cam’s conversation. Something about an amusingly-shaped turnip. She didn’t bother to start listening again until Astal asked in a low voice, “ _Where’s Auri? I feel like I’ve barely seen him lately._ ”

Cam shrugged, half his face pulling tight. “ _He’s been gone a lot, on missions for Fieri. And when he’s here … I think he’s just under a lot of pressure and it’s wearing on him._ ”

But Gwen stopped listening. Stopped hearing anything beyond a wall of white noise. Her eyes closed.

From a long way off, she heard Cam whisper, “ _Is that them?_ ”

“ _Cam_ ,” Astal hissed, “ _You know I adore you, but if you keep looking around like that I will stab you with my fork_.”

“ _Fair_ ,” he muttered. “ _So, which one of them should I punch._ ”

From a long way off, Gwen said, “ _It’s okay. It’s okay_.”

And I hope to gods that’s true.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Gwen ate some food. She talked with her friends. And the knights sat a hundred feet away, eating and talking like she didn’t exist.

Almost, Gwen almost believed it could last.

What a fool I am.

\+ + +

Three days. She should be grateful.

Three days, and Gwen had started to relax. Three days and her heart no longer beat in double time whenever she saw one of the knights.

Three days, and she should have known godsdamned better.

Two drinks into the evening and Gwen had started to relax. After an exhausting day training, all she wanted was to see what fool would try to out-drink Cam tonight. Like any other night. All she wanted.

But her three days were up.

The tavern door swung open and a group of Camelot’s knights stumbled in, most already drunk. Gwen turned away, head ducked down. They moved into a far corner of the room, and Gwen breathed, she breathed, she breathed.

But a dark chill moved through her.

And it won’t fade.

Three drinks into the evening and Gwen was finally starting to relax again. Deken had challenged Cam and was losing spectacularly. Above the laughter and cheering, Gwen almost didn’t hear it. The footsteps.

A hand fell on her shoulder, hot and heavy, as a drunken voice slurred, “Well, well, well. Nice to see the whore enjoying herself.”

The room froze.

And every eye turned toward her.

Soft as a viper, Skirai stood up and said, “What did you just call her?”

“You heard me. Whore.”

Barely breathing. Everyone in the room was barely breathing.

Gwen couldn’t move at all. Paralyzed. That hand held her paralyzed.

Glancing at her, Skirai said, “ _Gwen, feel free to break every one of his fucking fingers_.”

But she never got the chance. Pushing Gwen to one side, the man stalked forward and said, “Don’t talk at me in your filthy foreign language. I called her a whore because she is one. A nasty, little tramp. One day, she’s engaged to marry our king, and the next she’s shoving her tongue down another man’s throat. Nasty. Little. Tramp.”

He smiled at Skirai, lazy and drunk and enraged.

Cocking her head to one side, Skirai said, “ _Well, alright then_.” Faster than Gwen could track, she punched the man, shattering his nose.

Bellowing like an ox, he stumbled back, one hand clutching his face. Skirai easily ducked a mistimed punch before hitting him twice, right in the gut.

He dropped.

Pressing a boot against his bleeding face, Skirai hissed, “I hope you can understand me now. Because if you ever say those things again, I will personally remove your teeth.”

Grinding her heel down a little, Skirai stepped away just as tavern door swung wide and Kant walked in.

Surveying the frozen scene of carnage, Kant then fixed his eyes on Skirai.

Not missing a beat, she cleaned her bloody knuckles on the edge of her cloak and said, “ _Oops_.” Before Kant could do more than open his mouth, Skirai continued, “ _I know, I know. Follow you. I am in the deepest shame_.”

“ _Glad to see you’re taking this seriously_ ,” he bit out.

“ _Oh. Yes. I’m quaking_.” Picking her way to the front of the tavern, Skirai called over her shoulder. “ _Night all!_ ”

That was about when Cam started clapping.


	24. Bright Lines

_Knock Knock_

Please be in.

_Knock Knock_

I know you’re there. You always are.

But the door to Arthur’s rooms stayed stubbornly closed. Sighing, frustrated, Gwen turned back down the hallway.

Just my fucking luck.

Then – just before turning the corner, a door creaked open and she heard, “Gwen!” Merlin, hair disheveled, neck scarf in knots, face thinner, eyes darker, Merlin. Gwen smiled, she couldn’t help it.

_Merlin_. I’ve missed you so much.

She didn’t say that. But she smiled. Because she’d missed him so damned much.

Still half-falling out the doorway, Merlin said, “We’re you just going? Because if you were –, I mean I’m here, obviously, if you wanted to talk. But Arthur’s not. If that’s who you’re looking for. Who are you looking for?”

“Merlin.” Gwen laughed. “You, I came by to see you.”

“Oh right, well. Sorry about the delay in answering. Had my head in a wardrobe. Very dark place. Very dark.”

“Right.” Thank gods some things never change. “Are you – are you comfortable? Standing like that?”

“Uh. No. Now that you mention it, not really. I think I’ll stand up now. Oh no, too soon, too soon!” Merlin’s head disappeared and Gwen heard something that sounded suspiciously like him crashing into a suit of armor.

“Oh. Oh Merlin.” She tried not to laugh. She really tried. Except, the carnage he caused in the course of merely existing. It was phenomenal. Eventually, Gwen calmed down enough to help him up, but the occasional giggle did still escape.

Merlin didn’t seem overly perturbed. “Ah, well.” He stared down at the pile of armor. “I’ve been meaning to clean that anyway. Disassembly is an important first step.” Then he fell silent, still staring down. Finally, he asked in a quiet voice, “How you been Gwen?”

“Me? I’ve, uh, I’m good. I’m good.”

“That’s good, yeah.” Another pause, this one even longer. More painful. “Would you want to talk in my room? It’s just over there.” Merlin pointed to a door at the far end of the study.

“That sounds great.”

\+ + +

Away from the pressure of Arthur – his clothes, his smell, his existence strewn everywhere – Gwen finally relaxed.

“This is nice, comfortable.” Gwen leaned against the window sill, a light breeze playing with the edges of her braid.

Merlin puttered, shoving loose clothes into dark corners. “Damn sight better than some of other places I’ve stayed. I know too much about King Odin’s stables. Too much.” He shuddered theatrically.

Gwen laughed, “Oh gods, I remember him. He was awful.”

“His stables were even worse, believe me.”

“I can tell.”

“Horse dung. Dumped on my face. Horse dung!”

Still laughing, Gwen said, “It’s really good to see you Merlin.”

“You too, Gwen. It’s – I’d didn’t know, if I would.” He sat on the edge of the bed, shuffling his feet restlessly.

“Yeah.” She breathed, the laugh draining from her voice.

“It’s been, so long, really how you been Gwen? How are you?”

 “I’m, good. Really good, now. Yeah.”

“How long have you been living here?”

“Um, almost three years.”

Merlin looked up at her, dark eyes wet like wells, “So what about before? Here?”

“I … I wandered, for a long time. Look, Merlin, I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, of course, I get that.”

Gwen blinked a few times, eyes stinging. Out there, beyond the window, lay the horizon line. Dust rising up. Dust rising through her. Dust and black water. Rising.

Swallow. Swallow and try to breathe. Breathe Gwen breathe.

In and out. Just like that.

Okay. I’m okay. It’s alright now.

“Gwen?”

“Hmm?” She turned to see Merlin compulsively knotting and unknotting his neck tie.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – if you don’t want to talk about it. It’s fine, really.”

“I know,” she responded softly. “I know.” Take a breath. Take another one. Be the person to take that first step. Take a breath. And walk.

In a few strides, Gwen reached the edge of Merlin’s bed. Sitting next to him, she bumped their shoulders and said, “Now tell me about you, about everything. I want to hear about all the near-death experiences.”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin lost that terrible tension in his shoulders. “How long do you have? Let’s see, some of the highlights. Morgana turned everyone into kittens. Gwaine tried to cook once and gave half the castle food poisoning. Leon shaved his beard for a while, that was traumatizing. Oh, and I have fallen down two very deep wells. On three separate occasions. Not really sure what the universe is trying to tell me.”

“And … Arthur?”

“Oh. Arthur. He’s been nearly dead, a lot.”

“Gwaine’s fault?”

“Oh, definitely Gwaine’s fault.”

“And did you miss me?” She meant it to be playful, meant to bump Merlin’s shoulder and laugh and smile. She meant.

But the words carried a force of their own, a free-wheeling velocity. And they struck hard.

Merlin flinched, looking down. Hands knotting and tying that neck scarf, knotting and tying, knotting and tying.

“I’m sorry Merlin, I didn’t mean – ”

“No. No, I did. Miss you. All the time Gwen, all the time. It just hasn’t been right, without you around. We all miss you. Especially Gaius.”

_Oh Gaius_. Gwen closed her eyes against those words, against the pain. _Gaius_. I don’t remember the last time I remembered you. _Oh Gaius_.

“I’ve missed him too,” she whispered softly.

“You know,” Merlin’s hands froze, tied in knots, “I’m really sorry. About what happened that day. That I didn’t help, when you left.

“I tried to find you, after. I looked everywhere. I thought I could help. But you were gone. And I never – I didn’t get to stay all these things I wanted to say. Because you were gone.

“I just – I want to say. I’m sorry.”

Blinking back a few stray tears, Gwen pulled Merlin into a tight hug. Awkward and painful and perfect.

No words except to say.

I’ve missed you. So much.

I’m sorry.

I’m home.


	25. Sarahedo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up guys. Shit is about to get real. 
> 
> (I'm very sorry in advance)

Amber light bleeds through everything. Heavy and viscous and old. Amber bleeds.

“ _Stop screaming_.” Her nails dig into the prisoner’s face, twisting it sideways. Cutting in.

Slaughter and the offering.

“ _I said quiet_.” She breathes the words. “ _That’s better. Remember_ ,” white fingers trail across welts and cuts and little, bloody rivers, “ _You asked for this_.”

Snap. Another little finger breaks loose. Dangling.

A shriek. But this time, she does not bother to hear. Her eyes stretch past stone walls and the memory of windows, toward a horizon line.

“ _If you can’t focus, then I'll have to let you go. And I don't want to do that ..._ ”

He screams. He begs for a little more time. He begs.

“ _There’s that silvery, little tongue. Now. Sing for me_.”

 He breathes loudly, ragged and grateful. Sucking the air down.

Her nails latch into his face again, dragging in.

“ _You think I like doing this?_ ” Her face an inch from his, eyes blazing. “ _You think I like playing with your blood? I’m busy. So sing. Or I will make sure no one ever has use for you again. Not even your precious husband. How is he, by the way?_ ”

Like snake oil, her words burned through his body.

“ _Don’t you dare_ ,” he gasped, “ _Don’t you ever_.”

“ _Desperate times, Aurilean, desperate measures. Now sing for me_.”


	26. This Is How It Ends

“ _I don’t like this_.” Astal chewed on a fingernail, eyes tight with worry. “ _I don’t like it at all._ ”

“ _I’m sure everything’s fine,_ ” Gwen whispered back, but she didn’t believe it.

Astal snorted. “ _Sure. Because two Guards units and the Camelot knights have been summoned to the throne room for some good-natured bonding._ ”

“ _Uh-huh._ ” Gwen muttered back, distracted. “ _Definitely._ ”

Finally, Fieri and Arthur entered, talking between themselves. She looked … exhausted, like fabric worn too thin. Gwen felt worry unfurl tight and sharp in her gut.

Oh gods.

Scanning the room, Fieri tried to give them all a reassuring smile. Gwen did not feel reassured. Nodding at Arthur, Fieri took a long breath before saying, “Thank you for gathering at such short notice. I’m not going to lie to you – it’s not because I have good news.

“Last night, we received word from Threndi. She has taken Aurilean and Karret hostage.”

No air. No air remained in that room.

Gwen could not breathe. By her side, Astal went still as death.

A resounding lack of sound hit Gwen like a wall, a wave, a whiteout. Breaking everything down.

Cam. Oh my gods. He wasn’t here. He must already know. He must already be broken. Cam.

Fieri’s eyes shone bright with pain. “Threndi is demanding we surrender all our claims to the Baklan Mountain Range and the Melian Plains in exchange for their return.”

“No. No fucking way.” Decker called out. “She’ll never let them go. Never.”

“I agree.” Fieri responded, no heat to her words. His shoulders slumped, a little, and Gwen felt a long, silent keening. Addressing the crowd, Fieri said, “Threndi will never release Auri and Karret. Not if we give her the Baklans or Melian or the keys to Analii itself.

“Considering that, I have no intention of ceding any territory to her. Ever.

“That doesn’t mean we will abandon Auri and Karret. Threndi has been terrorizing this kingdom for too long. We’re going to get our people back and then we’re going to wipe her out, once and for all.”

Fieri’s voice grew soft as she said, “I can’t make promises about what will happen next. I can’t tell you it’s going to be easy, or that it won’t hurt. But, I swear to you, we will never stop trying to bring them home. Never.”

Around the room, Gwen heads nodding, chests moving again as people started to breathe, finally breathe.

Her own lungs remained locked, frozen, lost to winter.

Auri. Auri. Where are you. Auri. She closed her eyes, shut them against the ache. Auri. Please, come home.

“You’ll be splitting into three groups. Kerran’s unit, you’ll be targeting a fort Threndi has established in the Belan Mountain Pass. Welcome back to your old stomping grounds.

“Caso and Jalen, I’m pulling you out to work with Decker and Jasa, along with Leon and Percival from Camelot. I need to you to target a training camp Threndi has established up by the headwaters of the Braxor.

“The rest of Skirai’s unit, you’ll be working with Gwaine and Merlin from Camelot. You’ll be going after another of Threndi’s forts, about 50 miles beyond Brickin. You have the longest journey ahead of you, so I recommend trying to get some rest tonight.

“Now, I know there have been tensions between us and Camelot’s knights. But I need you to set that aside and focus. It’s the least that we owe Auri and Kerran.”

Looking at Arthur, Fieri nodded and took a step back. He cleared his throat. Gwen closed her eyes. “I know our people haven’t yet had an opportunity to work together.” Gwen’s eyes snapped open. She should have known. She just didn’t except. His voice. It cut, even still, after years, it stung. “But I believe we share an alliance that is more than just words. My knights and I are honored to be joining you on this mission.”

In the distance, above the shuffle of feet and the whispering voices and the roar of a whiteout, Gwen hear a keening. A high and mournful thing. And it hurt.


	27. You Owe Me

The screaming never seemed to stop. And old, amber light bled through everything.

Seeped like a stain. Stained like a scar. And the screaming never stopped.

You asked for this.

You asked for it.

Don’t be a coward, Aurilean. Don’t be so weak.

Her words wrap around him and burn him and roar through him, fire and the flood.

But it hurts. He whispers. It hurts.

But you asked for it. Her nails cut crescents in his skin.

Please, make it stop. But he doesn’t say the words. Because he isn’t weak. He isn’t. He isn’t. He won’t be. He can’t be.

So under his skin, between his teeth, around every rib, the words crawl and crawl.

Make it stop.

\+ + +

Gwen closed her eyes. Opened. Closed. Opened. Closed. World spread wide. World locked shut.

I wouldn’t mind if, just for a moment, everything washed away.

I wouldn’t mind.

Blink and blink. The night poured by, thick amber through a glass. Blink and blink and an earth wiped clean.

What a prayer.

Overhead, stars stretched wide, a great band arching across the heavens. Loamy earth and a clear rain of light. Gwen breathed it in and in.

The exhale caught in her throat.

Stuck there, jammed in, like a knife.

Because under a half-moon, Gwen heard, then saw, Arthur making his way towards her. Even in a world dyed shades of dark, his eyes still shone blue. She looked away. Stay away.

He came closer. Her fingers curled into fists.

He came closer still. Her breathing stopped.

Three feet away and closing. Gwen’s nails carved perfect crescents in her palms.

He stopped. Silence on the front.

She looked away. She looked away.

“Hello, Guinevere.”

I think I will strangle the lungs in my chest. If I speak. I think I will.

“Hello. Arthur.”

I do not like the feel of this pain.

“How – ” he cleared his throat, “How has your shift been?”

“Quiet. Nice.”

When my heart beats this loud, can you hear it too?

He nodded, arms crossed over the armor he never took off. “Quiet. Quiet is good.” Gwen looked into the woods. She would not turn, she would not turn. But he withstood her silence. In a quiet voice, Arthur said, “I could take over, for a while. If you want some rest. I know how exhausting standing guard at night can be.”

“I’m alright,” she replied quietly. “I’m used to it.”

He laughed, a little. “You – used to staying up late. I never thought I’d see the day.”

A faint buzzing began at the edges of Gwen’s finger tips, licking towards her brain. Slowly and carefully, she said, “What did you mean by that?”

Arthur smiled, a little. Like he smelled the danger but couldn’t see the knife. “Back – back, uh, you were always saying how tired you felt, how you wanted to go to bed earlier.”

Exhaustion hit Gwen, so powerful and potent she nearly collapsed to her knees.

Nothing ever changes and I am so damn tired. And I am worn thin.

Gwen took a deep breath, fighting back black water. “Arthur.” Another deep breath. “Arthur, I was always tired because I had stay up doing laundry. I wouldn’t get home until midnight. I never had a chance to sleep. So. I’m finally used to it.” Those last words snapped out, flat and sharp and tired.

I will drown beneath a thousand pounds of water.

“Oh.” Arthur shuffled awkwardly. Gwen wished she could look anywhere but him. “Oh, I didn’t realize. I, uh – ”

But Gwen held up one hand, the other pinching the bridge of her nose. “Arthur, let it go. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” He protested hotly, struggling to keep his voice down. “It’s just been so long, since I’ve seen you. The memories are all starting to blur.”

Gwen closed her eyes as her chest ached and ached and ached.

Grasping at the threads of self-control, Gwen whispered, “You should go. I’m supposed to be standing guard.”

He made a show of peering into the trees. “I don’t think anyone be attacking tonight.”

“That’s not the point. You should really go.”

Arthur nodded, shoulders slumping. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.” He took a few steps back towards the campsite, then a few more. “Well, good night Guinevere.”

She nodded, not trusting her words. Good night. Good night. For parting is such sharp sorrow. Good night. Good night.

Arthur took another step, the another. But then he stopped and, damn him, asked, “Have I upset you Guinevere?”

She could not meet his eyes. She could not stop her limbs from shaking.

She stayed silent. He walked towards her once again.

Oh my gods. You are not my shadow. You do not need to haunt me. But you never go away.

“Was it what I said about the late nights? Because, I swear, I didn’t remember about the laundry.”

“Oh my gods.” Gwen hissed between her teeth. “Shut up, Arthur.”

He jerked back a step, shocked. “Excuse me?”

Gwen took a deep breath between her teeth. “I do not have time for this.”

“Really?” Arthur snapped back. “Because you don’t look very busy to me.”

“Go to sleep, Arthur. I’m sure you’ll rest well knowing nobody is busy trying to keep you alive.”

He went very still. “Was that a threat, Guinevere?”

Rolling her eyes, Gwen said, “No, just your paranoia.”

It took Arthur a very long time to respond. When he finally did, the words came out soft and defeated, like a whisper. “You’re so angry now, Gwen. I might have forgotten a great deal. But I never remember you being this angry.”

“Does that really surprise you?” Gwen replied in a whisper of her own.

“Yes.” And in those big, blue eyes, Gwen felt an honest shock. He had no idea. No way to understand. No will to try.

Exhaustion crunched her up, left her lungs for dead. I don’t know how to explain a lifetime you’ll never live. I don’t know.

“Take a guess Arthur. Just take a guess about why.” Every word a loadstone. Every one.

He shook his head, lost. “You seem so happy here. These people obviously care about you. They treat you like family.”

“We are family.” Gwen smiled then, a little.

“Did something happen then, before you came. Were you … hurt? Because, Gwen, I am so sorry if anything happened to you – ”

She interrupted him, not knowing the sound of her own flat voice. “Oh. You’re sorry. That’s nice. I’m very glad you’re sorry Arthur. Because that makes everything better. That cleans everything up. Wipes the slate clear. Thank the gods, he’s sorry. Absolution for price of two words.”

Bitter and flat, like old almonds.

“That isn’t fair.” Arthur protested.

“Isn’t it?” Gwen turned on him, bitter and flat and broken where it hurt. “Because it feels fair. You did, after all, leave me for dead. You did turn all my friends against me. You did banish me from my home. You condemned me. To wandering and homeless and starvation. You made me vulnerable. And hurt. And scared.

“You ruined my life. And you didn’t care, not when it mattered Arthur. I don’t need your apologizes now. But once, a long time ago, I needed your compassion and your understanding and your pretty words, the ones you think can fix everything now. Well, I needed them years ago. But you abandoned me instead. So I learned to survive. And I got angry.”

“Gwen. Gwen – I never – I didn’t mean – you have to understand, that,” he gestured helplessly towards her, to everything, “that is never what I wanted.”

“So what?” She shrugged and looked into the deep black dark. And then more words came tumbling free, the ones she never even thought out loud. The ugly, bitter truth. “Besides. It think it is. What you wanted. To punish me and watch me suffer. You wanted to hurt me back Arthur. But execution, no, that wouldn’t do. Because death didn’t scare me near enough. Losing my family? My home? Now that would leave a scar.

“And it did. So congratulations, King Arthur of Camelot. You got exactly what you wanted.” Gwen opened her arms wide, gesturing to the world. “Oh, look. There’s Cam coming to take over my shift. I wouldn’t try and talk with him if I were you. He’s in a hurting sort of mood.”

\+ + +

The next day dawned milky white, and wherever she went, Gwen avoided Arthur’s eyes. That day rolled into the next rolled into the next. And still Gwen avoided Arthur’s eyes. And still he hid from hers.

The plains rolled into the hills rose into the mountains. And they climbed. And they climbed.

Gwen found a relief in the constant pain. Just stay external. Just stay away from me.

And they climbed. And they climbed.

At night, curled tight for warmth, Gwen closed her eyes and prayed. No words, not really. Just a song of blue water, offering and plea.

Just this.

Protect him. Please.

The fourth day came, and, hard as Gwen tried, she couldn’t quite blink away all the grit in her eyes. Throughout the journey, people had fallen silent one by one. Now, in the pale morning, nobody spoke. Cam sat next to Gwen, the shadows under his eyes deeper than yesterday. She passed him some bread, and could only watch as he stared at it, not eating, not moving at all.

After breakfast, they climbed. And climbed.

It wouldn’t be long now, Gwen knew, before they got near the fort. Just let him be okay. I know he isn’t. I know he can’t be. Be just let him be okay.

Please.

Gwen felt the words as breath on her lips.

Please.

Closer and closer. Maybe only a mile to go. Skirai signaled for them to stop, and everyone gathered around her, protected by the thick detritus of an overhanging ridge.

Still, Skirai spoke quietly, carefully, “Does everyone remember the plan?” Nods. “Good. You find a tunnel entrance, you make sure it’s well hidden and then come to find the others. No heroics and no grand gestures. We do something stupid, we get Auri killed.” Seeing the tense faces around her, Skirai tried for a smile. “Alright, good luck out there.”

Catching Astal’s eye, Gwen gave her a brief nod. They had decided, on the hike, that she would pair with Cam. Keep him sane. Keep him safe.

_Make sure he comes home_ , Gwen had whispered to Astal, gripping her friend’s hand, _bring him back_.  

Turning toward Skirai, Gwen found someone blocking her path. Gwen found herself looking anywhere but at a pair of bright blue eyes.

“Gwen.” He gestured forward, as if to say: you lead the way.

“Arthur, I don’t think this – ”

“We’ve always worked well together. Let’s make that count.”

“What about Merlin?”

“What about Merlin? He and Gwaine are pairing up. Probably just going to try and find the nearest tavern.”

Faced with the unavoidable, Gwen finally nodded. Okay. Okay.

Just bring him home. Just bring him back.

Splitting from the group, they slid into the forest. Soon, Gwen was covered in sweat, itchy and antsy and tense. Sunlight baked down, turning the air hot and heavy, a wet blanket constricting her throat.

Just keep walking. Just keep looking. Just don’t stop.

Hours and hours. They searched for hours and hours.

As the afternoon set in, Gwen finally stopped, resting her back against a tree. Arthur joined her, carefully lowering himself to the ground. They didn’t dare speak, couldn’t risk the glaring bulls-eye that sound would paint across their backs.

So Gwen stood and Arthur sat and the silence between them grew into a uncrossable distance.

And then they walked. And walked.

Afternoon rolled into early evening, the air like amber liquid. Panic, real panic, began eating at Gwen. She forgot about Arthur. She forgot about her exhaustion and thirst and itching skin. All she could see was the fire. Horizon burning.

I am running out of time.

Moving faster, Gwen stared at her surroundings, hunting for any irregularity, any strange gulley or unnatural line. Anything. For Auri, I’ll give you anything at all. Please.

Staring so intently her eyes burned, Gwen –

whoop

hit. the. dirt.

Six feet down? At least. So that’s the view from here.

Lucky. No air in my lungs. Lucky. Because I think I might be screaming.

For a moment, aching and tired and bruised, Gwen closed her eyes. Against her eyelids the sky inverted, strange and gold. Tree branches, the undersides of leaves, floated beneath her, a warm and watery blue.

For a moment, Gwen drifted, unmoored. Beyond breath.

Boots thudded near her face, too loud and real to be a dream. Carefully, still blurred at the edges, Gwen sat up, cradling the back of her head. Arthur crouched barely three feet away.

“Are you okay?” He whispered.

Gwen nodded, then winced. “Yeah.” She took one deep breath, then another. “Yeah. I just got the breath knocked out of me.”

“Here – ” But Gwen ignored Arthur’s outstretched hand, leaning instead on some sturdy roots to pull herself up. Some very sturdy roots…

“Arthur. Arthur look.”

Shaking a little, Gwen’s fingers scrabbled against dirt and leaves and moss. Digging and digging until –

“I knew it.” Gwen smiled then, a little. “I knew it.” Her fingers tightened their grip on an iron bar.

“Shit.” Arthur breathed. “Holy shit.”

Then, without another word, he helped her clear off more and more of the iron bars, until a round tunnel mouth, barred and pitch black, breathed out at them from the mountain side.

Stunned, shivering a little in the last of the sunlight, Gwen whispered, “Go get the others.”

Looking startled, Arthur glanced at the tunnel, then Gwen. Tunnel, Gwen. Tunnel, Gwen. “Finally he said, “Look, I can’t just leave you here.”

“Oh. My. Gods. Arthur.” Gwen felt her skull pounding. “You need to go. Now. It’s already near dusk.”

But still, he hesitated, staring at her, then the tunnel. Her, tunnel. Her, tunnel. Her, tunnel.

Aching more with every moment, Gwen finally hissed, “Fine. I’ll go. You stay here and try not to die.”

Gwen made it two steps before Arthur stepped into her path, nearly reaching out to grab her shoulder before thinking better of it. “No. No,” he said. “I’ll go. Just, sit down and try to stay out sight. If anyone comes …”

Gwen interrupted him, too nauseous to endure a useless lecture. Pulling her sword free, she said, “Don’t worry, I’m in a stabbing sort of mood. Now, please, just go.”

Finally, with a last, worried glance at her, Arthur clambered over the ridge and disappeared into the trees.

Dusk settled, lavender and soft. Gwen tried to focus on her breathing. Every time she blinked, little lights danced brighter in her eyes. Blink, bright. Blink, brighter. Blink, brightest. Blink,

rustling, in the black. Gwen held her sword steady, eyes scanning for the attack she would never be able to see coming. Eyes scanning anyway.

Just try me.

“ _Gwen – it’s me, with your former boy toy. The surprising hot one who really lacks a sense of humor_.” Suddenly trying very hard not to laugh, Gwen relaxed her guard.

“ _Down here, Astal_ ,” she called out, pitching her voice low. “ _Careful, the ground isn’t stable_.”

A minute later, after some particularly creative swearing, Astal and Arthur made their way into the clearing, bodies mere shadows in the twilight. Coming up to Gwen, Astal slid an arm under her shoulders and said, “ _Arthur told me that you fell. I need you to sit down for a second, okay?_ ”

Gwen didn’t bother to nod, just lowered herself to the dirt and tried not to fall over.

“ _You really wacked your head, huh?_ ” Astal muttered softly, running her fingers over Gwen’s hair. “ _Just close your eyes. It’ll feel better in a moment_.”

Doing as Astal asked, Gwen saw the bright lights, a million bits of star shine. A million points of light. Never let me go. She drifted, a little. Never let me go.

A wave of magic, amber warm. The star dots faded out. The pain bled away. Taking one breath, then another, longer, Gwen finally opened her eyes. “ _Thank you_.”

“ _No worries_.” Astal patted her shoulder. “ _I send you my fee_.”

“ _Fuck off_ ,” Gwen laughed, letting Astal help her stand. That smile didn’t linger long. Not when Gwen saw Arthur’s face, frozen and pale.

“Magic.” He breathed the word, staring at Astal. “You just did … magic.”

“Yeah.” She stared back. “Is that a problem?”

“Magic is – ”

But Astal interrupted him, “Actually. I don’t care. We have more important things to worry about. So save that freak-out for when there’s time.” Turning her back to Arthur, Astal said to Gwen, “ _Let’s go_.”

“ _Where?_ ”

“ _Back to camp. Skirai doesn’t want us around the tunnel at night_.”

Looking back at Arthur, Gwen said, “ _Is that a good idea?_ ”

“ _Shit if I know. But I’m tired, you could have died, and blond and brawny is really getting on my nerves. So let’s just do as we’re told and sleep._ ”

\+ + +

The tunnel did not look any friendlier the next morning.

Gwen shivered in the dawn light. Shivered and stared. Black maw, opening wide. Black maw, ready to swallow her down.

Black water, rising.

She closed her eyes. Just for a second. Just to buy a breath.

Not sure it’s working. I’m not sure.

Gwen opened her eyes. No time like the present to find out. No time. I’m out of time to hide. I’m here. Take a breath. I am here.

Staring into the black. Take a breath. I am here.

Having seven clustered in the small gulley did not help. Cam had been working with Skirai and Arthur to force the gate open, but not he stood hunched to one side, fists clenched in frustration. The purple crescents punched beneath his eyes looked worse today. Crumbling. Cam was crumbling to pieces. No one tried to talk to him. No one dared.

An hour. She rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. They had been here an hour, trying to make that damned gate open.

So close. What if we came this close. And lost him. What if?

I can’t bear this weight on my chest, I can’t breathe.

Gwen tried to breathe, fighting her rising panic. Fear and a wall of metal and gapping, black maw.

Finally, even Arthur and Skirai stepped back, clearly frustrated.

“Do you mind if I have a go?” Merlin asked quietly.

Arthur looked up and laughed. “You know what? Go ahead. Why not. Why the hell not.” Not bothering to watch, Arthur leaned against the side of gulley and proceeded to take a nap. Rolling his eyes, Merlin started puttering around the edges of the gate, carefully running his fingers over the metal.

Barely a minute later, he announced, “It’s open.”

“What?” Arthur jerked upright. “What do you mean, it’s open.”

“I mean. The gate. Is open.” And with a tug, Merlin indeed swung the gate inward.

“Well done Merlin.” Gwaine came up to Merlin and slapped him on the back. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Arthur hadn’t moved, his face still frozen in shock. “But, how.. did you…?”

“It wasn’t that hard.” Merlin shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “There was a latch covered by dirt that I picked free.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” Arthur mimicked under his breath, clearly not enjoying himself.

Looking somehow between laughter and murder, Skirai said, “Yes. Now that we’ve all established how doors work, let’s get a move on. Gwaine, Merlin, as discussed I want you here guarding the tunnel entrance. Anyone tries to bother you, take care of them. And you four.” Skirai fixed her eyes on Gwen, Cam, Astal, and Arthur. “Once we’re in that tunnel, no one tries to go solo. If someone isn’t out by sunset, I’m going to assume you’ve been captured. Do not – do not – make me come save your dumb ass. Clear? Good. Let’s go.”

Just before she entered the tunnel, Gwen felt a presence at her side.

Oh my gods. Will you never leave me alone?

Pausing for a second, Gwen hissed, “What, Arthur?”

He looked down at her, such serious concern in those brilliant eyes. “Will you be okay – going in there?”

“What?” Her brain froze.

“Because no one will care if you stand guard with Merlin and Gwaine.” Such concern in those stupid, blue eyes.

“I will. _Asshole_.” And Gwen pushed her way past him into the tunnel.

In the rapidly fading light, Gwen saw Astal shoot her a look, but Gwen just shook her head.

Later. A story for later. When they came out alive and had Auri back. When they could sit together and mock Arthur and laugh again. Later.

From far ahead, Gwen saw Skirai and Cam’s flickering torches. But the light meant little, in here.

The deep black dark surrounded Gwen on all sides, pressing in, hot and heavy. Breath down her neck. Breath down her neck.

Drops of cold water hit Gwen’s face, slithering underneath the collar of her shirt. She tried not to flinch. She tried really hard.

Only Arthur, walking barely five feet away, kept Gwen from reaching out and grabbing Astal’s hand. Instead, she stayed close to her friend, almost shoulder to shoulder. Astal didn’t drift far either.

Leaning in close, Astal whispered, “ _Did I miss something, or are we both claustrophobic_.”

 “ _It would seem so_ ,” Gwen replied, her voice tight.

_“Well, fuck_.”

Time went strange in that tunnel. Gwen lost track of the space between seconds and hours. Seconds and days. Years, she had been scrabbling against these walls for years.

I am lost in the deep wells of the world.

I do not dare close my eyes.

Not this time.

The tunnel split. Gwen nearly froze there, at the cusp of two open maws. A black wind rising.

“Gwen, Astal, you take the right tunnel. Cam, Arthur, and I will go left.” The torch felt so fragile in Gwen’s hands, incapable of sustaining life.

I will be swallowed whole by this world.

“Remember, you have until sunset, about six hours from now.” Skirai looked from Gwen to Astal, and her voice went soft. “ _Come home to us. And bring him with you_.”

They walked away, a lone light fading.

“ _Are you ready?_ ” Gwen whispered to Astal.

“ _We have to be. Come on, let’s go_.”

And so she and Astal walked away too. At their backs, the shadows grew longer, writhing in the deep dark.

\+ + +

Walking and walking. Walking and endless walking. Until…

“ _You’re joking_.” Gwen stared at the wall in front of her. A brick wall, filling the entire tunnel. “ _You have got to be joking._ ”

Holding the torch near the ground, Astal poked at bits of broken pottery with her feet. “ _Looks like someone used this as a cellar a long time ago._ ”

Pressing her back against the tunnel wall, Gwen groaned in frustration, saying, “ _What do we do now?_ ”

Astal joined Gwen against the wall, thumping her head back. “ _I have no fucking clue_.” And then, “ _Holy shit, Gwen, look u_ p.”

Gwen did. “ _No way. You’re joking_.”

But Astal was not, in fact, joking. Above their heads, crusted in dirt and grime and gods knew only was else, was a trap door.

In a slightly awed voice, Gwen said, “ _There is a trap door. In the ceiling. An actual trap door. I … I never saw that coming._ ”

“ _Want to go through it?_ ”

“ _Oh, hell yeah_.”

“ _Okay, sit here, yes onto my shoulders_.”

Precariously balanced, Gwen scrabbled at the edge of the door. “ _I can’t quite get it. Little to the right, further right, no, left._ ”

“ _Can you hurry up?_ ” Astal muttered.

“ _Going as fast as I can. Move over here. Okay, right. Don’t move, don’t move_.” Reaching for her knife, Gwen scrapped away more dirt, finally wedging the blade into the crack between the door and the ceiling. “ _You might want to close your eyes_.”

With a final push that nearly sent both of them tumbling over, Gwen shoved the door open. Dirt cascade down, covering her face and hands in a gray film.

Don’t cough. Don’t cough. Don’t cough.

“ _Can you…_ ” Astal gasped, trying to breathe in the clogged air. “ _Can you climb up?_ ”

“ _I think so._ ” Gwen whispered back. Digging her fingers around the door’s edge, Gwen pulled herself into a dark hallway, biting through her lip to keep from gagging on the dust.

“ _What’s up there?_ ”

“ _Not much, really_.” Kneeling on a stone floor, panting slightly, Gwen tried to take stock of her surroundings. To her left, a wall that looked as old as the fort itself. To her right, a long corridor stretching into darkness. Nothing moved. No footprints marked a faint coating of dust.

Still.

Gwen shivered, a little. She did not like this quiet.

Trying to block out the ringing that lies on the other side of silence, Gwen leaned back over the doorway. “ _Well, I think we’ve found our way in_ ,” she whispered. “ _I’ll help pull you up._ ”

“ _You want the torch first?_ ”

“ _Leave it. We don’t need to paint a bigger target on our backs_.”

It didn’t take long for Astal to jump, catching the edge of the hole before dragging herself up onto the hallway floor. _“See?_ ” She said, bent double with her hands on her knees, “ _I was totally fin_ e.”

“ _Yeah, that’s why I had to help drag you up by your armpits_.”

“ _I’d rather you didn’t mention that_.”

“ _Too late. Now let’s go, unless of course you need saving again_.”

“ _Shut up_.” Astal muttered, carefully swinging the door closed.

Before they went any further, Gwen unsheathed her sword, and Astal followed suit. No sense wasting any time on pleasantries. Not here. Not now.

Not until he comes home.

Step by step, Gwen and Astal moved deep into the fort. Into silence. Their footsteps barely registered, muffled and opaque in a muffled and opaque world.

Leaning close to Astal, Gwen breathed, “ _Where is everybody?_ ”

Astal just shrugged, her shoulder sharp with tension.

Deeper and deeper into a dimmed world, grey light filtering in from an occasional window set high and narrow in the ceiling.

Gwen shivered, a little, wanting nothing more than to run, to run, to run.

There is something very wrong here. There is something, and I want to run, to run, to run.

Step by step, and the deep thrum of my heart. Step by step, try to breathe in a dark hell.

Eventually they hit a fork in the hallway, half continuing forward, half spiraling down into a staircase. A staircase without light.

“ _Forward … or down?_ ” Gwen whispered, already hating the answer she already knew.

“ _Down_.”

“ _Damn_.”

“ _Wish we had that torch right about now_.” Astal said, trying for a smile.

“ _I’d take a candle. Hell, I’d take a match_.” Gwen muttered, looking down the jaws of almost certain death via a broken neck.

Well. No time like the present. Adjusting her grip on her sword, Gwen followed Astal into the black. Shuffle by shuffle. Inhale by exhale. Progress slowed to crawl, slower than a crawl.

We will be on this staircase forever. We’ll never find him. There will be no going home.

There will be – light.

Gwen tapped Astal’s shoulder hard, pointing toward final curve of the staircase. A dull red light illuminated the old stone, the most beautiful thing Gwen had ever seen.

Don’t let go, Auri. Not yet. I know you’re here, I can feel it. I know we’re close, I can feel you. Don’t give up yet. Don’t give in. Please, hold on.

Please.

They found themselves in another long hallway. Cell doors punctuated the stone walls. Gwen tried to remember to breathe. But that was hard, because the smell … oh gods the smell.

Dying people. It reeked of dead and dying.

Behind one of those cells, someone started groaning, pained and frail. Dead and dying.

Gripping Astal’s shoulder for a moment, Gwen started walking. She scanned the cells to the right, Astal to the left. Try not to vomit, try not to run, try, try to hold it together.

Try, try, try.

But the … the people in those cells. Oh my gods. Gwen swallowed and tasted blood.

“ _Gwen_.” She flinched. “ _Gwen_.” She turned to see Astal pointing, hand shaking, at a body a cell a slumped form of blood and bones. Oh my gods.

Her stomach fell clean out of her body. Hit. The. Floor.

Laid there. Gasping.

A puppet with strings cut. He was just laying there, splintered and bruised. Astal pushed against the bars, desperation lacing her voice. “ _Auri. Auri_.” No response. “ _Auri. Please. Auri_.”

Half a shudder, that was all. But he lived, he lived, he lived.

“ _Can you pick this lock?_ ” Gwen whispered.

“ _Already on it_.” Astal replied, her face a mask of concentration.

Clutching the cell bars, Gwen said, “ _Hold on Auri. Just hold on, okay?_ ” We’re so close. Just a handbreadth away. We’re right here. Don’t leave me now.

“ _Astal, we don’t have long_.”

“ _I know, I know! So shut up and let me think_.”

Hold on, Auri. Hold on.

Then, with a barely audible click, the door swung inward. Silent and perfect. Half in shock, Gwen followed Astal into the cell.

She might have vomited, except her stomach was already running for its life. Blood and sweat and piss and pain, a physical agony clawing against her skin. For a moment, lost in the drowning, Gwen just braced her hands on her knees. From a long way off, she heard Astal say, “ _Gwen. Gwen. Stop breathing through your nose. I need you to focus right now_.”

Okay. Okay.

Open your eyes and move forward. Okay.

Crouched by Auri’s side, Astal placed her fingers against his temple. “ _I’ll need to knock him out. There’s no way he can be awake when we move him. Not … not like this._ ”

Flayed. Like some animal. They treated him like an animal. Lacerations covering every inch of his back, purpling blooming through his torso, surely broken ribs, and those shattered fingers, bent at all the wrong angles.

“ _Do it fast._ ” Gwen replied.

Auri didn’t seem to recognize them. His eye stayed shut, and he kept trying to flinch away from Astal’s touch. The frail twitching of a fragile bird.

Murmuring softly, Astal rest her palm against Auri’s temple. For a moment, the flash in her eyes dyed the cell golden. And Auri slumped sideways. At rest. At last.


	28. Promises, Promises You Can't Keep

The crying would haunt Gwen. She knew it, forever and ever. Their crying. Their pain.

“ _Astal –_ ”

“ _We don’t have time_.”

“ _Astal!_ ”

“ _Gwen_.” Astal’s eyes, filled to the brim with a helpless sort of rage, met her own. “ _I don’t have time to pick all the locks. I can’t. We have to go.”_

“ _Then give me your tools_.” When Astal hesitated, Gwen said, “ _Hurry_.” Without hesitating, Gwen threw the pick Astal passed her into the nearest occupied cell. “ _Okay, now we go_.”

They couldn’t move fast, not with Auri’s arms slung over their shoulders. So there was plenty of time. To hear the crying. And the pleas. And the screaming.

I cannot close my eyes to this. And it will haunt me forever.

I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry. I know. I heard your screaming and I walked away. It shouldn’t be like this and it is. Unforgivable.

They made it to the staircase. One step, then another, rising. And I will be haunted forever. As long as he comes home. Up and up, they ascended.

“ _Almost there, Auri_ ,” Astal whispered against his matted hair. “ _Not long now_.”

They nearly made it. Up the staircase, down the hall, further down the hall, nearly so close I can taste it. We almost made it.

Except.

They turned the final corner and two soldiers stood there above the trap door, smoking and smirking and kicking at the disturbed dirt. Too late to run and nowhere to hide. In fight or flight I will not let him die.

Still smirking, one of the soldiers dropped his cigarette, grinding it into the floor. “ _Well Jeker, what do we have here?_ ”

“ _Looks like a jail break to me_.”

“ _You know Jeker? That’s just what I was thinking_.”

From her left, Gwen heard Astal mutter, “ _Fuck_.”

For a second, they locked eyes.

_You think?_

_I don’t see another option._

_Fuck_.

Smiling and smiling. Those two bastards just grinned from ear to ear. Tell me how you’re feeling in two minutes boys.

Astal moved first. Shifting all of Auri’s weight onto Gwen, she had her sword swinging before either of the men could so much as unsheath theirs. 

The next time Gwen looked up, Auri now carefully resting on the floor, Astal had stabbed that bastard Jecker through the heart.

Deciding she should probably contribute, Gwen waited till Astal had the second man distracted before sliding behind him and smacking the pommel of her sword into his skull.

He dropped.

In the ringing silence, Astal said, “ _We need to go. There’s no way somebody didn’t hear that_.”

Avoiding the growing puddles of blood, they got the door open and carefully maneuvered Auri down, Gwen passing his unconscious body into Astal’s arms.

Dangling for a moment from the edge of the hole, Gwen grabbed the door and it over herself, falling a second before it smashed down.

Somehow, the quiet of the tunnel rang louder than even hallway. Within that stillness, Gwen could hear each of Auri’s fragile breathes. Couldn’t avoid the pounding of her own heart. Couldn’t hide. As exposed as she felt, Gwen could not hide.

And so the longest walk began.

Outside time, Gwen and Astal stumbled forward, their torch barely lighting the way. A life strung between their fingertips. And fading fast.

Soon, soon, soon. Someone would find those bodies,and wouldn’t take much imagination to follow her and Astal through the door. Soon. Fight and flight and a predator circling close, closer, closest still.

Breathing down our necks.

We have to run. How can we ever make it in time?

The longest walk.

Then a light appeared, flickering faint. Half a dream. They moved faster. And faster. The light only grew bigger. Into the size of my hand, my heart, the sky. Gwen smiled, grey exploding above her. The sky the light the sky. She breathed, and breathed again.

The sky.

“ _Oh my gods_.” Gwen snapped back down to earth. Cam stared her and Astal, hands limp at his sides. “ _Is – is that him?_ ”

“Cam,” Astal spoke quickly. “ _I knocked him unconscious. It’s okay_.”

“ _How._ ” Step forward. “ _Can_.” A second step. “ _It be_.” A third. “ _Okay_.” One hand reached out, shaking and shaking. Carefully, Cam brushed through Auri’s hair. “ _Let him go_.”

“ _Cam –_ ” Astal cautioned.

“ _Just let me hold him_.”

Catching Astal’s brief nod, Gwen helped pass Auri into Cam’s arms.

After a long moment, Cam sank to his knees, just cradling Auri close. Just burying his head in the crook of Auri’s shoulder. Just breathing him in.

Never let me go. Never let me go.

Gwen looked away, feeling something twist so hard in chest it hurt.

Never let go.

She realized the others were there, Skirai and Arthur and Merlin and Gwaine, standing back a little. Reality sunk back in.

In an urgent whisper, Gwen said, “ _Skirai, we need to get out of here. Astal and I fought with two soldiers. It won’t take long for somebody to find them, if they haven’t already_.”

Skirai simply nodded. “ _Cam_.” He didn’t look up. “ _Cam, we’re going to move out_.” Still, no motion. “ _You can carry him, but you need to get up. Cam. If you stay here, he dies_.”

A long, deep breath, and then, “ _Okay_.”

“ _Gwaine will help you_.”

“ _Those arganli aren’t touching him_.” Cam hissed.

“ _Question me one more time and I’ll punch your teeth out_.” Skirai snapped back, staring him down.

“ _If they hurt him…_ ”

“ _Then I deal with it._ Now, everyone, we’re moving.”

 


	29. Into the White

“ _How is he?_ ”

“ _Healing._ ” Astal scrubbed her hands down her face. “ _Resting, now._ ”

“ _You need anything?_ ”

“ _No, no I’m alright. But, can you actually sit in there for a while? I need … I don’t know what I need_.”

“ _Of course,_ ” Gwen whispered. “ _Go eat something and get some sleep. I’ll watch him._ ”

“ _Thanks, Gwen_.” Astal gripped her shoulder for a long moment before slowly making her back toward the inn.

One more breath. Just let me take more breathe out here. Because in there, it’s like a morgue.

One more breath, and Gwen followed Astal's footsteps, finally finding her way into the room.

Auri still lay on his chest, body shivering despite a roaring fire. Cam lay beside him, a hairline from touching, eyes empty. Black and blank.

Gwen shivered. In the horrid, heavy heat, she shivered.

The screaming and the cracking. It haunted her. A day from home, and she wanted to ride like a banshee in the wind. Just to see it, to be there, anything to leave this place. Anything.

Instead, Gwen collapsed into a chair and took up watch, marking Auri’s every breath.

And the screaming and the cracking echoed, echoed, echoed.

Rembering. Gwen squeezed her nails into her palms until blood dripped free. But she couldn't stop remembering.

“ _The spells aren’t holding._ ” Astal had whispered, panicked. “ _I can’t block the pain. I can’t._ ”

Barely conscious, Auri shook in the half-light. “ _Just do it,_ ” he gritted out.

“ _Don’t you dare_.” Cam moved between Astal and the bed. “ _Don’t you._ ”

“ _Cam._ ” In a voice laced with pain, Auri said, “ _Let her. Whatever they did to me – these spells won’t take. And my bones can’t keep healing like this. Let Astal reset them_.”

Cam crouched by Auri’s side, every breath a seizure. “ _Please just wait. Please. Maybe once we get home…_ ”

“ _No maybes. It'll only hurt worse later._ ”

Cam just shook his head, a few tears leaking free.

“ _Shhh. It’s okay, love, it’s alright._ ”

“ _No. it’s not_.”

“ _I know. I know_.”

Beyond speech, Cam rested his cheek against Auri’s, breathing him in. One, and two. In, and out. Loving and losing and all the space in between.

I said I'd never let you go.

“ _Alright_.” Cam stood up and step back. “ _Just do it_.”

The first finger. Snap. A long scream.

Gwen felt a remembered nausea flash through her, so intense she almost vomited again. And then the memory dragged her back down.

The second finger. Snap. A longer scream.

“ _Auri. Auri. You can’t move._ ” Astal’s voice, low and desperate. “ _I know it hurts. But you have to hold still_.”

“ _I’ll … try._ ”

But trying wasn’t enough. He flinched away every time Astal breathed.

“ _This isn’t working_.” She sat back, shoulders slumped. “ _Cam, Gwen, I need you to hold him down_.”

“ _No. Fuck no._ ” Cam pushed away from the bed, into the middle of the room. Gwen remembered freezing, her mind a swirling blank.

“ _Please._ ” Auri gasped out. “ _She’s right._ ”

“ _No_.” Cam snapped. “ _You can torture yourself without me_.”

“ _Please._ ” Auri begged. “ _Cam, it hurts too much to stay like this. Please_.”

Cam crumpled. He walked forward, strings cut. “ _What should I do?_ ”

Careful of Auri’s other injuries, Astal directed him to hold down Auri’s shoulder, and had Gwen keep his arm still.

“ _Okay,_ ” she whispered. “ _Just breathe, Auri. Just breathe._ ”

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

Shaking and screaming. Cam was shaking, Auri was screaming, and Gwen felt the world crashing down into her. Every time Auri shuddered, it broke a piece of her, and it shattered a part of Cam.

They held him down until Astal reset every mangled bone in Auri’s hands. And the sounds from that night would haunt them.

Afterward, with Auri unconscious from pain and Astal slumped into a chair, Cam stumbled from the room, turning on the very thin edge of sanity. Gwen held him when he collapsed outside in the grass, when he dry heaved, when he broke down sobbing.

She held on. He let go.

And the memories clung like a scar.

Shaking herself, Gwen tried to drag her mind back into the present. But image blurred into afterimage and a _snap snap snap_ echoed through everything, everything.

This room is a morgue and I am drowning.

Closing her eyes, Gwen imagined going home, taking the bath she could only dream of, scrubbing her skin clean, down the raw and real, peeling back layers until nothing remained but the fine edge of something new. For a moment, just a moment, she slipped away.

Into the white.


	30. Stormking

Fieri paced her study, forward, _swish_ , back, _swish_ , forward, _swish_ , back, _swish_. “ _Has Arthur arrived yet?_ ”

Kant rolled his eyes and took a long pause before responding. “ _No. Because if he had, I would have already let him through the door. But please, let’s repeat this scenario again in five minutes. I am so enjoying it._ ”

Pausing, Fieri glared at Kant, “ _You know, I could have your head chopped off for insubordination._ ”

“ _You could, but then who would actually run the kingdom?_ ”

Just then the door to Fieri’s study swung open, drowning out her muttered response. Surveying the two of them, Nefir asked, “ _Is Arthur here?_ ”

“ _Oh. My. Gods._ ” Kant slumped into his chair, slowly massaging his temples. “ _This is it. I am finally going insane_.”

Giving Fieri a confused shrugged, Nefir said, “ _What’s wrong with him?_ ”

“ _He’s your husband. Your figure it out._ ”

“ _Pass. I’m going to let that stew for a little bit_.”

“ _I hate you both_ ,” Kant muttered from his chair.

“ _Love you too darling_ ,” Nefir smiled as he responded, lightly running his fingers over Kant’s shoulder. “ _But seriously, where is Arthur?_ ”

“ _Aaaagggggg._ ”

“ _Funny. He usually doesn’t make that sound in public._ ”

“ _I didn’t want to know that._ ” Now it was Fieri’s turn to massage her temples. “ _I really did not want to know that._ ”

“Know what?” Arthur walked into the room.

“ _Oh thank the gods._ ” Fieri sank gratefully into her chair.

Looking puzzled, Arthur slowly sat down. “Did I … miss something?”

Waving one hand, Fieri replied, “No, no. Just Kant driving me insane. As usual. Anyway. I appreciate you coming, especially at such short notice."

Arthur nodded, “Of course. How is Aurilean healing?”

“Well. He’s healing well, thank you.”

“Is there any word on Karret?”

Fieri shook her head, dark shadows in her eyes growing longer, and lingering. “Nothing. Of course, we won’t give up searching. But… it isn’t good. And I’m afraid there’s worse news. Auri’s fever finally broke last night, and this morning he spoke with Nefir about he saw while imprisoned.”

Nefir leaned forward, arms braced on his knees. “I’m not going to dance around it: we have a problem. When the guards weren’t too busy torturing people, Auri would hear them talking about how Threndi’s followers were flooding into the mountain range above Brickin.

“She’s preparing an invasion force, one that will be ready to mobilize in two weeks at the most. And we aren’t ready.”

Arthur blanched, knuckles going tight. “And you trust his information? The guards had to have known they would be overheard.”

“Auri has always been one of my best spies. If he thinks information is credible, then I’m inclined to believe him. Besides,” Nefir’s face twisted into a sort of grimace, “the guards didn’t expect anybody to leave that dungeon alive. Had we been a day, two days, later, Auri certainly wouldn’t have.”

Arthur nodded, the tension not leaving his body. “And I absolutely respect your faith in him, but I’ll need more to convince me that open war is coming.”

Fieri smoothly cut in. “You’re right. We do need more information. Which is why,” she gave Nefir a sharp look, “we propose moving in two directions at once. The bulk of your troops are a little over a week and a half out. If a rider goes out tonight, they should be able to move fast enough to arrive within a week.

“At the same time, I will send out scouts to report on the exact positioning and numbers of Threndi troops. If we coordinate this right, we can still defeat her.”

But Arthur continued to look hesitant, seeing perhaps the coming rivers of red. Fieri leaned in, speaking softly, “You and I have known for a long time that if Threndi succeeds in conquering part, or all, of this kingdom, Morgana will not hesitate to ally with her.

“Together, they would be unstoppable Arthur. Unstoppable. And they would do unspeakable things.”

Breathing deeply once, twice and again, Arthur finally said, “I’ll have a message drafted for your rider in ten minutes. Let me know if my men and I can help with the scouting in any way.”

“Of course.” Fieri nodded, reaching out to shake Arthur’s hand.

He gripped her hand for a moment, saying, “Let’s put a stop to them. At last.”

\+ + +

Now or never, Gwen. Now or never. Now move.

She did.

“ _My lady._ ” But Fieri was already half way down the hall. “ _My lady!_ ” Finally, Fieri turned.

“ _Gwen, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk in the past few days since you’ve returned. Is something wrong?_ ”

“ _Wrong? No._ ” Gwen struggled to catch her breath, nerves biting into her. “ _Not exactly, no. Well, yes. I’d like to be one of the scouts. Going to Brickin._ ”

Fieri raised an eyebrow, “ _I didn’t realize this was common knowledge._ ”

“ _It’s not. Not exactly. I didn’t mean to overhear Nefir tell Cam, I just happened to be the other room. And then I couldn’t leave._ ” Gwen tried to inhale, feeling the conversation unraveling like so much thread. “ _I know I’m not a scout. Or a spy. But I know those mountains. I trained in them, lived alone up there for weeks at a time. I can help._ ” For the briefest of breaths, she closed her eyes. “ _I need to help_.”

Fieri studied her closely, “ _I can’t afford to send anyone with you. Or after you._ ”

“ _I understand_.”

“ _Do you?_ ” A long sorrow tinged Fieri’s face, shadows without end. “ _You may not come back, Guinevere_.”

“ _I know._ ” Her own voice, softer this time.

“ _Well, I won’t try to stop you. But be careful_.” Placing her hands on Gwen’s shoulders, Fieri spoke the words that the Guard offered at the start of every journey, “ _Let the wind fly at your back, and one day, may it bring you home again._ ”

\+ + +

I have packed so many bags in my life. I never really thought about there being a last one.

Gwen’s hand stilled, clean socks half folded.

Even – lost in the scent of smoke and snow and fire – even then, I believed I could go on. Somehow. I never believed in a last bag.

How could I? Not if I wanted to carry on.

For a moment, fierce and sharp and ragged, Gwen wanted her father. His warmth and his hugs and his deep voice. She wanted him to hold her, just hold on.

What am I supposed to do, dad? What am I supposed to do?

Dad?

Gwen cried, a little. She missed her father so much. He always knew what to say, he would have known now.

I need you, dad. I need you. More than ever.

\+ + +

In her half-dreams, Gwen heard the sound of booming thunder.

Like lightning in the mountains.

She woke. And it was a grey half-dawn. The second day. She travelled no slower than the first, pushing herself and the horse through the brink of exhaustion. Into the hallucinatory revealing on the other side. Bleed through me, all the colors bleed through me.

Still, she rode on.

Days, hours, minutes, the gaps between breaths, Gwen tried to breathe around the seconds ticking away.

The second dusk fell. She pulled off the road only before night swallowed her entirely. In a secluded clearing, far from the road, Gwen gratefully collapsed against a tree not far from where her horse stood, nickering softly.

“Shhh, girl, Shhhhh.” Gwen whispered, the long deep dark echoing all sound.

_Shhh, girl, Shhhhh._

That night, in ragged sleep, she again heard the roaring, far thunder. The crash of lost lightning. The snapping of a twig.

Gwen’s eyes shot open.

Listening. Listening. Her hand gripping the pommel of her sword. Listening. Listening.

To her right, the velveteen rustle of dry leaves. To her left, Gwen slid, her own feet like shadows. Right, left, right, left, right, left.

Barely a star to be seen and the clearing was a shadow. Right, left, right, left.

Slowly, slowly now, Gwen let the body get closer. Slowly, slowly, luring prey is a delicate game. Slowly, slowly, till you’re right where I want you.

Slowly. Step. Swing.

Her blade a hairsbreadth from slicing a throat. The body standing in front of her went dead still. She whispered, “You have five seconds before I slit your throat. Make it count.”

“Gwen! It’s me, Merlin.”

“Merlin?” She pulled her arm to the side, getting the sword out harm’s way. “Merlin – what in the gods names are you doing here?”

“Well, um.” Gwen could hear his feet shuffling, felt as much as saw the awkward slump in his shoulders. “I just thought, that, well, maybe you’d want some backup.”

“Backup.” Gwen responded, her voice flat in disbelief.

“Yes. No. Well. I heard Arthur mention that you were going on this scouting mission, and that you were alone, and it sounded really dangerous … Gwen? Gwen?”

But she had given up listening. Massaging a sudden, spike pain in her temple, Gwen sheathed her sword and asked, “Merlin. How did you even follow me?”

“Is that a question I technically need to answer?”

“Is the answer something I actually want to know?”

“Not really.”

“Fine. Great. You can’t stay.”

In the darkness, Gwen heard Merlin’s sputtering. Already exhausted, she leaned against the nearest tree, letting her head go _thunk_.

“Of course I’m staying. I’m already here!”

“Merlin.” Deep breath. “I appreciate whatever misguided chivalry has highjacked your brain, I really do. But seeing as I nearly slit your throat without breaking a sweat, I think I’m going to be fine.”

A long sigh in the night, then, “I know that, alright? I’ve always known that. This isn’t some ‘misguided chivalry’, it’s … look. I was a shit friend, when you got banished. I left you. And so when Arthur mentioned that you were scouting by yourself – I just didn’t want you to think you were alone.”

“Merlin.” Gwen couldn’t help laughing. “This might be the sweetest, most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done.”

“Yeah. I know. I can – I can go, if that would be easier. Really.”

“Do I ever want to know how you would go about doing that?”

“No, you really don’t.”

Carefully picking her way across uneven ground, Gwen walked over to Merlin and hugged him, tightly. “Merlin, I don’t want you to go. Thanks for deciding to do something stupid.”

“Anytime.”

Finally stepping away, Gwen asked, “Won’t Arthur notice you’re gone?”

“Does Analii have taverns?”

“… yes.”

“Then he won’t suspect a thing.”

“I clearly missed a whole sequence of events right there. Well, grab your pack and settle in for the night. We’re leaving at first light tomorrow.”

“So, there won’t be time to cook breakfast then.”

Gwen froze. “Merlin, please tell me you didn’t pack your entire set of pots and pans.”

“Oy, you never know when a good pot will come in useful. People do tend to get hungry.”

“Oh my gods, Merlin.” Damn the noise, Gwen couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so hard.

\+ + +

“Oh my gods.”

Worse. So much worse. She could never have expected _this_.

Thousands and thousands and thousands. More troops than Gwen had ever seen in her life. Enough to fill the valley. Enough to march on the low lands and eradicate everything.

Beside her, Merlin had gone still as the dead, his breath shallow.

Here I lay, first witness to the end of my world.

“Gwen.” Merlin’s voice was a mere exhale. “What are we going to do?”

From their vantage point on a rocky outcropping, people were the size of ants, scurrying to and fro. Hundreds of fires dotted the valley floor. Taking in a long breath before slowly releasing it, Gwen said, “I’m going down there, we have to get more information. But, I need you to stay here.”

“I won’t just lay here while you literally risk your skin.”

Gwen whispered urgently, “Merlin, you have to. If I don’t return by dawn, you need to be able to tell Fieri what we saw.”

“Okay.” His face twisted softly in pain as he said, “Okay. Just, be careful, please.”

“Always.” Gwen hugged him tight before slipping away, half a shadow in the indigo light.

Trees caved in tight around her, all bright lines and sharp edges in the rising moon. Lucky, this twisted wild-wood offered so many places to hide. Flitting through pockets of black, Gwen slowly made her way down the mountainside.

But as she drew closer to the camp, something felt … strange. Wrong. A sickness, rising inside her. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up. Too late, be right back.

On her knees, spitting bile into the dirt, Gwen felt one thought pounding through her. I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead. Someone heard that, and they’re coming and I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead.

But no one came.

Struggling onward, nauseous and dizzy, Gwen finally hit the tree line. And froze.

Ghostly remains of people, horses, fires, tent, danced across the grass. Lines of light, shimmering. A mirage. Mesmerized, Gwen watched the outline of fire spit the imprints of red sparks into the sky.

Real. None of this was real.

Threndi has fooled us all.

For a moment, Gwen stopped breathing. Stop existing entirely. Shadow. Smoke. A candle in a hurricane.

We are all dead. If we don’t find the real army, we are all dead.

Merlin. I have to get back to Merlin.

But Gwen never made it that far. Two steps into the forest and she heard footsteps coming from the left. Dropping to the ground, Gwen pressed her body into the undergrowth and prayed the darkness would hide her.

No. No, it can’t be.

But it could. And it was. A tall figure, so pale she nearly glowed. Her pink eyes burned into the darkness. Barely breathing, Gwen didn’t dare look away.

If she sees me move, if she catches the flicker of an eye, I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.

Ten feet away and counting, on the very edge of the valley. So close Gwen could see the breeze ruffle individual strands of hair. The Sarahedo’s hair. Oh my gods.

It took Gwen a few moments to break through her shock and realize that Threndi had begun speaking to another woman. Their voices carried in the silent night.

“ _Anything to report?_ ”

“ _Nothing Sarahedo. Even if they are scouting the area, our spells should keep them back_.”

“ _Good. Make sure it stays that way._ ”

“ _Of course, Sarahedo._ ”

Silence.

Gwen waited. But nothing moved. Gwen waited and waited. The silence dragged on. Then, the voices started a second time, quieter than before.

“ _Sarahedo, if I may ask, is there any news?_ ”

A pause. “ _He succeeded._ ”

“ _Well thank the gods_.”

“ _I hope you will be able to pass on your congratulations in person very soon_.”

“ _Then you think Analuan will fall quickly?_ ”

Threndi laughed. “ _We will have them trapped at the foothills of these mountains in a week. Then all it will take is a blow, the one they never saw coming, and the mighty armies of Analii and Camelot will fall. A queen’s head on a spike, and a kingdom in our hands._

“ _That bitch trusts him completely. She’s staked her kingdom on it. How I delight in proving her wrong. Yes, we will see             again soon._ ”

One word. Four letters. Two syllables. A little thing. Once heard, it can never be said. It can never be thought. Gwen’s brain could not think beyond three consonants, one vowel.

No, no, please. No.

A white out. Blanking me through.

You’re lying. You have to be.

But Threndi kept speaking. “ _Yes,                did well. If those fools continue to believe him, and they will, then we own the throne. At last._ ”

Back pressed into the dirt, Gwen did not move. As the voices drifted, moving further away, going, gone. Her mind, lost in a loop. Spinning. Spinning. Spun. A typical reaction to trauma. Loss of air. Loss of functions. Loss of sight sound being. Loss.

One name. Four letters.

We are all going to die.

Two syllables. And the end of the world.

Gwen lay, stunned. Her heart ripped out. There, only a foot away. Beating pathetically on the forest floor in a one, two time.

Useless.

Boom, boom.

Fucking useless.

Three, four.

Something inside her body shattering, breaking, going down. The depths of a sea are unrecoverable. The heart is a lonely hunter and it betrays me all the time.

\+ + +

Miles of darkness. That is all she knew of the journey back. Blinding night.

Near dawn. The outcropping where she would meet Merlin came into view. Beyond, she saw the rims of mountains. Sharp edges of the world. This cut glass outlined in aquamarine. Blackness, blackness on the mountain side.

For a moment, a fresh wind blew. Gwen closed her eyes. Standing on the rim of the world. Without knowing herself, Gwen knelt and accepted her heart back into her hands. Raising the bloody, frightened organ, she handed it back to her chest. Brought it home.

Dirt and pine needles, moss and marrow. This night would live inside her forever.

Dawn.

Gwen did not know the feet walking forward, the voice whispering, “Merlin?”, the arms wrapping him tight as he hugged her.

She did not know.

And I am lost to the thunder, burning in a whiteout.

Collapsing into the dirt, Gwen leaned against a rocky outcropping and stretched her legs into the grey dirt of a grey world containing a life so suddenly fluorescent thatshe couldn’t look it in the eye. Like the sun.

Crying. Gwen thought she might be crying. Or laughing. Half-gone. We are all going to die.  

“Gwen?” Merlin said softly, crouching beside her. “Gwen, what happened?”

Shaking her head, shaking, Gwen refused to breathe. Let the words run wild and they become real. When she said them, there would be no undoing the damage already done. There would go hope.

Staring into the fire above the mountains, Gwen finally the first of the dead words.

“That army is a mirage. Magic. Who knows where the real one is hiding? Not us. Not anyone who will help us. It’s over Merlin. We can’t win this. Everything I have … everyone I love ... they’re dead.”

For a moment, Merlin sat stunned. But then he gripped her hand tightly and said, “No, no. Not yet. We can still win this. Gwen, we still have time.”

She ripped her hand free, rage in every nerve ending. “No. We can’t. You don’t understand.”

“Look, we’ll leave now, be back at Analii in just a few days. We can do it.”

Hissing every word, burning with every breath, Gwen snapped. “It’s over Merlin. Do you get that? It’s over. We’re done. We’re doomed. Because he betrayed us. He betrayed everything!”

“Who, Gwen?”

She turned and watched the mountain tops boil.

“Aurelian.”


	31. The Dragon Lord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a dragon and by the gods there's going to be a dragon.

Ash hung in the horizon. Neither Gwen or Merlin bothered to move. Crushed and crumpled, this is how it comes, the end of things.

This is how we break.

Staring forward, blank-eyed, Gwen filled the silence. “There isn’t enough time. Not to stop our armies from heading out. Not to find where Threndi has hidden her troops. There isn’t.” A few tears leaked free and she closed her eyes. In a small voice, Gwen whispered, “I don’t know what to do Merlin.”

Wrapping an arm around Gwen’s shoulder, Merlin pulled her close. “I’m scared too.”

They sat there, together, for as long as they dared, holding on.

To gravity, I pray, hold me down.

“Gwen.” Merlin whispered.

“Yeah?”

“What if there is a way? To find Threndi’s army and let Fieri and Arthur know in time?”

“I’m not in a joking mood, Merlin.”

“And I’m not joking around.”

When Gwen turned to look at him, she realized he looked frightened, she suddenly felt the wild thump of his heart against his ribs.

“What if there was a way?” Merlin repeated, softly.

“Then tell me. And I don’t care what it costs.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I would give anything. Do anything.” Her eyes burned, molten. “I don’t care.”

Still, Merlin paused. Tension crawled through the muscles in his face, an old pain living there. The core of a sun, going nova. Still, Gwen never expected what came next.

“I can talk to dragons.”

“What?”

“Dragons, I can talk to them. They listen to me. Because I have magic. Well, that’s not why I can talk to dragons. I mean it is. But, my father was a Dragon Lord. So, I can, you know …”

“Talk to dragons.” Gwen finished for him.

Merlin nodded lamely, his body already pulled in a half-flinch. Biting back a laugh, knowing it would be the wrong reaction, event with hysteria – hysteria – rising through her, Gwen leaned forward and rested one of her hand’s on Merlin’s knee.

Keep the voice gentle. It’s so easy to startle when you think you need to run for your life.

“Merlin … I’ve been living with people who openly use magic for years now. It’s okay. It doesn’t scare me. You don’t.”

He blinked at her slowly, not willing to believe. “You aren’t angry?”

“No. Gods no, Merin. The dragon thing surprised me, but I’m not mad.”

“Promise you won’t tell Arthur.” Those last words fell out in a rush, driven by panic, an unbreakable fear. Gwen knew the taste of that agony, could hear, even as she tried to forget, the sound of screaming for her father’s life. The sound of him dying anyway.

“I will never tell Arthur. Never.” She met his eyes and Merlin believed her.

He hugged her tightly, and when Gwen finally pulled away she couldn’t help but say, “Umm, Merlin, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but was there a reason you mentioned that you can talk to dragons?”

“Gods, yes!” He smacked himself on the forehead. “Remember when I wouldn’t tell you how I was able to keep pace with you on the way here.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah. I caught a ride with Kilgharrah.”

“You know a dragon named Kilgharrah?”

“I’ll admit it’s a bit unusual.”

“You don’t say.” Gwen could hear the hysteria creeping back into her voice.

“If I summon Kilgharrah, I’m hoping he’ll know where Threndi’s real army is, or at least fly us back to Analii.”

“You want me to ride a dragon?”

“I promise, Kilgharrah isn’t nearly as unfriendly as he seems at first.” But Merlin must have sense her skepticism, because he said, “This is the only way, Gwen. It’s our chance.”

She nodded, once, twice, and a third time to make herself believe it. “Okay. Okay, then. Merlin – and I cannot believe I am saying this – please summon the dragon.”


	32. Sympathetic Vibrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night? What is this madness??

“Young warlock. Why did you summon me? Again?”

A massive gust of hot air blew over Gwen, and she reflexively stepped far back. Merlin, on the other hand, had no problem walking right up to the … creature. It’s body alone would have filled the Great Hall in Analii. Gwen shivered, looking away from those cunning eyes, the sharp edges of its scales, the hot, dark holes of its snout.

“We need a favor, one last time.”

Kilgharrah snorted, sparks flying free. “You always say it’s the last time.”

\+ + +

Into the indigo light. Gwen tipped her body back, letting the wisps of ultramarine stream through her fingers, letting herself scream into the wind, knowing no one could hear.

Down, down, down. With every flap of Kilgharrah’s wings, Gwen felt the earth fall away. Horizon rising through her. Into the light.

Gwen didn’t understand how Merlin could ever bear to be put back on the ground again. How he could ever give up the flight. Surrender existing like this.

Opening her hands, Gwen let the wind rip her clean. Never let me go, never let me.

Even as the chill air burned her eyes, even as her legs and lungs went numb, even as the night expanded into the long, deep, dark, Gwen refused to close her eyes. Not for a second.

Even when I leave, I’m never letting go.

Burn me clean. Burn me bright. Burn me whole.

\+ + +

Fire and fire and fire. All Gwen could see was the fire. She inhaled smoke.

Being is the act of rebeing, memory a torn sail. I fall through.

Kilgharrah had done it. Far below, Threndi’s army sprawled across the grasslands, resting near the mouth of the river Dyta.

Circling and circling, Kilgharrah spun far overhead, careful to never cross the glimmering moon. Whirling and whirling, Gwen looked down. Fighting a convulsive heave in her chest, Gwen gripped Merlin’s waist. Tightly. Wait for the dizziness to pass, just breathe.

Good. Now look again.

Almost ten thousand troops down there, if Gwen’s eyes were to be trusted. But … she bit her lip. Threndi had fooled them once.

“Merlin.” Gwen called above the wind. “Is there any way we can get closer?”

He shook his head, turning back towards her, “Not without being spotted. But I think I have a way to check if this army is the real one.”

After thirty seconds where nothing happened, Gwen said, “Merlin, whatever your plan it, now would be a great time.”

“It’s – it’s a, uh, spell.”

“I am currently riding a dragon that you summoned. At this point, I really don’t care. Just do it.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get huffy.” But Gwen saw him smile. Then, his face growing serious, Merlin took a deep breath and whispered in a strange language.

His eyes dyed the night around them gold. A wave of power swirled through Gwen’s body, and as the light faded in Merlin’s eyes, Gwen felt an echo of that same power pulse from the ground.

Merlin smiled. “Well, they’re real.”

At loss for words, Gwen finally said, “You couldn’t have done that last time?”

Shooting her a look, Merlin responded, “It’s not the most subtle process.”

With a concussive flap, Kilgharrah pulled away from the camp and angled his body back towards to mountains. “This is as long as I stay, young warlock. I will leave you and your friend at Analii, and then I expect to be left alone. Forever.”

“Of course. Thank you, Kilgharrah. Thank you.”

“I am not helping you because I wish to, Emrys.”

\+ + +

Dragon heat radiated through her every bone, sympathetic vibrations in her marrow.

Drifting, I’m drifting away.

Gwen refused to think, and in the concussive boom of Kilgarhaghh wings, she lost herself.

Letting go, letting go.

Starlight poured down in a curtain, the edges of colors half-seen. Embrace the sharp wind, the knife of light, Gwen embraced it, cracked open her ribs and let the sky pour in.

She never wanted to stop.

Let me become like ether. Borealis in the sky. Let me beyond. Let me.

Her lips formed unspoken sounds, tender against the blue. Body to body, she gave plea.

_Let me go back home. Please._


	33. Deep. Deepest. Dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many long chapters in a row ... what's gotten into me?

Do not run. Do not run. Do not run.

Gwen walked.

Do not let them know that anything is wrong. Trust that Merlin will go to his room and speak to no one. Trust that will still have time before the castle shatters down on all our heads.

Do. Not. Run.

Gwen gritted her teeth and tried to keep her feet steady. Through silent corridors and moonlit walkways, damp and chill with dawn coming. Too nauseous to shiver, Gwen walked up and up, dreading each step.

I’m not sure I can do this. But I have to.

Up and up, Gwen walked until she could go no further. The final door. Grit your teeth, this pain now, it is only a coming echo.

“ _Jayla_.” She bowed her head to Fieri’s guard. “ _I need to speak with the queen_.”

“ _She’s sleeping_.” Jayla responded, staring pointedly at Gwen’s disheveled clothes.

“ _I need to talk with her. Immediately_.”

Unimpressed, Jayla crossed her arms and said, “ _It can wait_.”

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t pan – but the exhaustion and fear won. “ _Threndi’s army near Brickin is a decoy, and her real army is ready to bring this kingdom crashing down. Now please, for the love of the gods, wake up Fieri up_.”

Eyes wide with something akin Gwen’s own panic, Jayla said, “ _Wait here_.”

And so Gwen did. The stone at her back went from chilly, to temperate, to warm. Degree by degree, the sky outside lightened. Finally, Jayla opened the door and motioned Gwen inside.

“ _She’s tired, so your intel had better be right_ ,” she muttered as Gwen walked past.

I hope it’s wrong, Gwen wanted to reply. I give anything to be wrong.

True to Jayla’s word, Fieri looked exhausted. She had pulled her hair into a hasty ponytail and hadn’t even bothered with socks.

Suppressing a yawn, Fieri said, “ _Good – I think it’s morning, Gwen_.”

“ _Yes, my lady_.”

“ _I’m guessing that whatever you need to tell me, it’s important?_ ”

“ _Yes, my lady_.”

“ _Good. Good. Because I’m really fucking tired. Pardon the language_.”

“ _Of course. I understand_.” I don’t think I will be sleeping for years.

Feeling the earth tilt sharply underfoot, Gwen abruptly sat down. Something inside her had started shaking, shaking. A rattling in the ribs.

“ _My lady … I found Threndi’s army_.”

At that Fieri sat upright, her eyes going sharp. But before she could interrupt, Gwen kept speaking. “ _But the army we know about? The one above Brickin? It’s a mirage. It’s fake, some sort of magic. Threndi is trying to lure our armies into the valley at the foot of the mountains. She’s trying to trap us from behind_.”

Now fully awake, Fieri said softly, “ _From behind … oh my gods, where is her real army Gwen?"_

_“By the mouth of the Dyta. My lady, she has thousands of troops. Thousands._ ”

“ _Are you certain, Gwen?_ ” Fieri leaned forward, her voice urgent. “ _Are you sure._ ”

“ _Yes._ ” Gwen whispered. 

Growing pensive, Fieri murmured, “ _Dyta … Dyta … Gwen, how did you travel between here, Brickin, and Dyta?_ ”

Shifting in her seat, Gwen looked anywhere but Fieri’s eyes and said, “ _I, um, maybe that better wait until we’ve both had some sleep. Merlin can explain it better_.”

“ _Merlin? What was he doing with you?_ ” Seeing Gwen’s panicked expression, Fieri pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “ _I really don’t want to know, do I?_ ”

“ _No, my lady_.”

“ _Then I’ll be content with mystery_.” Studying Gwen carefully, Fieri continued, “ _I’m sure you’re exhausted, but I need you to explain this to Kant and Illari –_ ”

“ _No._ ”

“ _I’m sorry?_ ” Fieri stared at Gwen, eyebrows raised.

Panicking. Gwen was panicking. Heart-smacking-against-her-ribs-sweat-between-her-fingers-panicking. “ _No. Please, don’t call them. Not yet_.”

“ _Gwen. What’s going on?_ ”

I wish I could tell you. Except. I. Can’t. Breathe.

“ _My lady_.” Shaking, shaking at the edges of me. “ _There is something … else. Worse. That I learned. When I was at the fake camp, I overheard Threndi. Talking to someone, a soldier I don’t know_.”

“And _you're just mentioning this now?_ ” Fieri looked as if her patience had worn very thin.

“ _My lady…_ ” Don’t push me, don’t push me, I have moss in my heart and blood in my lungs. Don’t push. “ _Because._ ” And it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. “ _Because of what she said._ ”

Gwen paused again, tried to inhale. What a failure. One more time, that’s it, just like that. One more time and I say these words and I’m broken. But, at least then it’s done.

_“Threndi spoke of a traitor. A man who feed you, feed us all, her secrets and lies. A man who sold out this kingdom again and again. She said that he had served her long and well. May he be highly honored._ ” My tongue tastes like bitter almonds.

No blood remained in Fieri’s face. Her body had fallen still. “ _Who, Gwen?_ ”

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

I wish anything were different.

Everything.

“ _Auri._ ”

\+ + +

Kant came. And Nefir. And Illari. And Arthur.

And the dawn. That arrived, somehow finding its way across the floor. Gwen watched the line. And she shook. All the babbling voices, Gwen wanted to claw against her ears, all the babbling voices would not leave her alone. She just wanted to breathe. She just wanted air. Air. There wasn’t any … why couldn’t she … all the noise all the noise all the …

A hand on her back, solid and real. A hand and a voice, saying, “Let’s just step outside for a moment, shall we.”

Gwen nodded, helpless to resist eyes that shade of blue.

A hand on her back, steady and warm, as she tried to walk forward. A hand, not letting her fall. One step, two step, into the sky. To a balcony where the horizon could rise to meet her and Gwen could finally breathe.

A hand on her back, letting go now.

Sweet and young, a breeze blew around them, blending strands of her hair into his. Onyx and gold and all the light in between.

Quiet. Gwen could taste the silence, that thinnest swish of the wind. She breathed. She breathed.

Finally, face turned toward the horizon line, Arthur said quietly, “I’m so sorry, Gwen.”

She nodded, at a loss.

“You and … he were close, weren’t you?”

“It’s not like he’s dead,” Gwen heard herself snap. “Not yet.”

Arthur replied, gentle and sad, “No. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“But he will be soon, won’t he.” That was her voice, whispering terrible things. That was her. That was her. Tears leaked free and she said, “Won’t he? He’ll die for this.”

At a loss, Arthur pulled Gwen into a tight hug, hand smoothing her hair. “I’m so sorry, Gwen, I’m so sorry.”

“He’s going to die. They’ll kill him. They’ll kill him.” She sobbed into the crook of Arthur’s neck, gripping tight, holding on. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what any of us will do. I don’t … I don’t…”

“Steady Gwen.” His mouth settled behind her ear and a hand soothed her shaking back. “Steady. You take it one step at a time, one day at a time. You move forward slowly, but you move.”

“I wish this wasn’t happening.”

“I know. I know.”

Leaning back, Gwen did not flinch when Arthur reached up to brush away her stray tears. He did not step away when she ran her fingers across his temple, through the hair that rippled like gold.

And when she kissed him, soft and open, he kissed her too.

A thousand times, we have lived this a thousand times before.

Hands between hands and your skin cupping mine. Warmth of the sun. All the light.

Gwen breathed Arthur in and held tight. Held on.

Finally pulling back, Gwen couldn’t fight a smile. “Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi.” He laughed, still holding her hands.

Pressing their foreheads together, Gwen kissed him again, all lazy tongue and teeth. And when Arthur laced his fingers through her hair, pulling her tight against him, she reveled in the fire.

Burn me clean. Burn me down.

White out.

\+ + +

The longest day. Gwen pressed her back against the wall and closed her eyes. World without end and I’m trapped in it.

World without end and I’m here.

Let me go. Let me go.

Unwilling, a little frightened, Gwen opened her eyes. And nothing had changed in their little tableau, we have passed the time for miracles. Auri still sat in a chair at the center of the room. Fieri still leaned back against her desk, arms crossed and eyes dead. Des still stood at Auri’s back, ready to perform the spell that would send too many secrets spilling forever. Kant and Nefir and Arthur, all there. Waiting and waiting for the last tick of the bomb.

The mid-morning sun still crawled across the ground. Innocent. Oblivious.

And Gwen. Back pressed against the wall and legs shaking and still here, too. When this bomb blows, I want to know the blast that kills me. Eyes wide open.

“ _Will someone please tell me what is going on?_ ” Auri’s voice cracked through the room, sudden in the silence.

Studying him, eyes cold and detached, Fieri said, “ _You know, I’m not fond of repeating myself. So, no. I don’t think I will explain. After all, secrets are such fun._ ” Smile like a viper and just as deadly.

Auri stopped shifting in his chair, stopped moving at all except to whisper, “ _What the hell does that mean?_ ”

“ _I think it’s time that you tell me. Des._ ” Fieri gave her husband a nod, and faster than Auri could jerk away, Des grabbed his neck and whispered a spell. The flash of his eyes dyed the room a sudden gold. Auri went limp.

Gwen remembered. A sea change of will and the sharp spark of pain the bones. Magic pouring through the joints and gaps of you. Relentless. Overpowering. Storm waves. When Auri flinched, Gwen flinched too.

If the room had been silent before, now it was a tomb. Cold and sharp and nothing of light. Gwen shivered, a little.

Staring into Auri’s eyes, Fieri waited a long time to ask the first question. When it came, her voice offered the words like butter, like silk, like a viper.

“Did you betray our people to Threndi?”

Silence.

“Did you. Betray. Our people. To Threndi?”

The magic won.

“Yes.”

One word. Three syllables. An arrow fast and true. Gwen knew this sort of pain. Thought she did. Didn’t know it at all. Dance with me agony.

A long gasp claimed all the room’s air. Something dark and broken hovered at the edges of Fieri’s eyes, in the pallor of her skin.

“Have you passed Threndi information on Analuan’s military and alliances?”

“Yes.”

He spit the word, back ramrod straight and eyes blazing.

“Have you spied on Analuan for Threndi?”

“Yes.”

“Have you given us false information on behalf of Threndi?”

“Yes.”

“For how long, Aurilean?” Something in Fieri’s face broke at that question.

Silence. Silence. Silence.

“Five years.”

No one breathed. No one could. Normal functioning shut down.

“Why, Aurilean?” Fieri looked sick. “I don’t understand. We … we took you in. We gave you a home. We …” Her hands gestured helplessly to the life around them. “We became family.

“I don’t understand. Why?”

Her question dropped like a loadstone, ripping through the room, a final shattering. Auri stared into Fieri’s eyes as the question lived between them, molten metal, a final brand.

Why?                                                              

Why?                                                            

Why?

A feral brokenness tinged Auri’s response, a rage that could not be contained.

“Well thank you for your charity,” he hissed. “You want to know why? Because none of you – none of you – in your comfortable towers and your comfortable lives understand what the mountain people are really facing. What I as a child endured.

“What do you know of hunger, of starving. Because I never had enough to eat. I watched my mother waste away. I buried nothing but a sack of skin and bones.

“And all across the edges of this kingdom, every fucking day, people are starving. You aren’t doing anything. No one here does a damned thing except wring their hands and then turn away. It’s hard to ignore the pile of bodies when your back is to them.” His voice dripped, flat and bitter.

“I joined your precious Guard to do what was right. I believed in you. I believed in all of you. And then I saw your selfishness, your callousness, your cruelty. I saw poison at the heart of everything. How couldn’t I turn away.

“Threndi helped me find a reason to stay. To remain in the Guard instead of running. To fight a different sort of war, the one you wouldn’t face.

“She speaks the tongue of the blighted word. She understands.” He nodded a little to himself, lost. “She understands. There’s no bringing back the dead. There’s no way to undo all the shit and sin. No way. But I could do this. I can do this.”

Fier sank back into her chair, her limbs in collapse. It took her a long time to say anything, and when she did, it was broken.

“Auri. She tortured you.”

He held his head high.

“Anything. I would have done anything to keep suspicion off me, even for another day. I knew you were growing concerned about a spy. And we knew if she shattered my fingers and flayed my skin – well, everyone’s blinded by a hero.”

Gwen felt her knees give out. Without will, she sank toward the floor. Slow and steady and drowning. I’m drowning.

Grabbing for anything, her arms found a chair and saved her legs from the weight of gravity.

I remember the weight of your blood on my skin. I remember carrying you home. I remember feeling afraid. I am afraid.

Silence.

Gwen watched the light crawl across the floor, amber and divine. Touch me and burn me, glory and pain. I’m not sure I want to feel anything anymore I’m not sure.

Fieri leaned forward, her body a feral line, “Who else works for her.”

Auri flinched, but he did not give.

Fieri hissed, “I can wait all day. I can wait, and watch, as the magic burns you up, until nothing echoes in your head until my question. I can wait. So, Aurilean, I’ll ask again. Who else works for her?”

He shuddered, fought, but the magic ripped his jaw free. “Thessian and Catri.”

Fieri stared at him for a long time after that, her eyes flinty and hard. She just looked, as if she had never seen him before. And Gwen supposed, she never had. None of them really knew him. Somewhere in the back of Gwen’s chest, a bronze bell began tolling. Six feet under and I’m going down.

They will kill you for this.

A few tears leaked free.

The light played in half-remembered patterns on the floors and Gwen closed her eyes. I’m going down. But blindness couldn’t block Fieri’s next words.

“Kant, take him to the dungeons and leave him there to rot. The next time you’ll see daylight is after we win this war. Because I do intend on winning. Pity that will also mark your execution. Now get him out of my fucking sight.”

“I won’t go quiet,” Auri said, his voice dangerous and low. “Even if you gag me. I’ll fight and rumors will spread like wildfire.”

Fieri gave him a withering look, “Please, Aurilean, I’m not stupid.”

A nod to her husband and Des’ eyes flashed gold, leaving Auri to collapse, unconscious, onto the stone floor.

\+ + +

Grateful. She was grateful for the long walk back to her room. For the people passing by and the quiet wind. For the silence brushing through her.

Grateful. Easier than aching. Easier instead to be a light wind whistling.

Grateful for her room, its sweet, dappled silence. Gwen closed the door and breathed.

_Tell no one of what happened here. Say nothing. We will meet soon._

Inhale and exhale and the world drained away. Removing her cloak, Gwen felt every brush of the wool on her fingers, the small catch of the leather clasp on her callouses. Scritch scritch scratch. Shirt and pants came off, easy in the way she moved.

Familiar. Simple. Hers.

\+ + +

Illari touched Gwen on the shoulder, gesturing for her to follow. Gwen stood gratefully, abandoning her half-touched meal. She didn’t intend on finishing.

The hall was nearly empty, too late for most people to seriously consider eating. Gwen did not mind the silence. She had been avoiding Astal and Cam all day.

What would there be to say?

Ah, yes sorry for terrible mood. It’s just our good friend, and your husband, is a traitor intent on burning this entire kingdom to the ground. I know, I know, what a little fucker.

No. Not a viable conversation.

Entering Fieri’s study, Gwen gratefully collapsed into the chair she gestured toward. Fieri looked as tired as Gwen felt, deep circles imprinted beneath her eyes.

“ _Were you able to sleep at all this afternoon?_ ”

“ _A little, my lady._ ”

“ _Good._ ” Fieri smiled at her. “ _It’s okay Gwen, I haven’t asked you here to deliver any bad news_.”

Gwen nodded, “ _That’s … good._ ”

“I _just want to speak briefly about the events of the past few days._ ”

Oh. Gwen felt something tight and sharp drop into her stomach. Great.

Fieri continued, “ _I already spoke with Merlin, and he’s more than happy to keep this quiet. I like that boy’s survival instincts_.

_Nefir and I also talked with Cam. He had no knowledge of Aurelian’s crimes. Nor is he taking the news particularly well. I imagine he will be leaning on you during the coming days. That being said, I must ask you not to speak to anyone about Aurelian’s actions beyond those who already know. And Astal, you can talk with her_.” Fieri rolled her eyes a bit, “ _I nearly forgot about that_.”

“ _Astal, my lady?_ ”

Fieri massage her temple gingerly. “ _Astal, indeed. Apparently after learning about his husband’s … life choices, Cam sought her out and went on – I believe Astal’s exact words were ‘a fucking tirade’ - so yes._

“B _ut beyond that, let’s keep this pleasant bit of news between ourselves_.”

“ _Of course_ ,” Gwen said softly. _“You have my word._ ” Whatever a word is worth.

“ _Thank you, Guinevere._ ” Fieri gave her another sad, exhausted smile. “ _Now, I've already kept you too long. Good night, and rest well._ ”

\+ + +

The night settled into deep folds. Deeper. Deepest. Dark.

One woman sat in the pitch, legs braced against the floor, back bent against the bed. Her chest shook. And shook. And shook.

Why? Her mouth formed the words it couldn’t say. Why?

Another woman sat by her side, holding her best friend’s freezing hands. Answered, though the answer meant nothing.

I don’t know. I don’t know.

How? How could he?

Tears drifted down, a snow melt, a white out.

How?

I don’t know. I don’t understand. I’m so sorry. Answers, though the answers meant nothing.

In the dark, in the unwavering pressure, one body drew closer to another. Wrapped one chest against another. Matched one breath against another.

Just enough gravity to hold back the crush. For now.


	34. From Salt You Came

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys.

“ _Are you sure you want to do this?_ ”

Unable to look Nefir in the eye, Cam nodded, a puppet jerked by his last string. Yes. Yes. Yes.

No.

The sharp taste of smoke stained his lungs. Every time he tried to breathe, the air refused to go down.

He stepped forward, body swaying loose at all the hinges. Cam shivered. Auri must be so cold down here. So cold.

Ebony webs, that’s all I have for lungs.

In the torch light, Cam could almost pretend that he almost couldn’t see the door. Walk right by and never touch the wood that would brand him forever. And yet, fingers shaking, Cam reached for the door handle. Making contact, he gripped and held on. Oar against the tide.

“ _I’ll wait here,_ ” Nefir said, taking up station beside the door.

“ _I’m not going to stage a jail break_ ,” Cam snapped.

“ _That’s not what I’m concerned about_.”

“ _He would never hurt me._ ”

Nefir didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t have to.

“ _Fuck. Off._ ” Cam snapped, jerking the door open and stepping across the threshold. Into the cell.

Like a walking through a sheet of frigid water. Like losing his heart in a single punch. Cam hadn’t been ready for this, for the sight of him.

He had already mapped out every inch of this encounter, every breath. He had been wrong. He had gotten it all wrong.

Not ready, not ready at all.

Auri sat, collapsed in a corner. Chained at the wrists and ankles. A gag biting into his mouth. Don’t look up, don’t look up. Cam breathed. Don’t look up. Let me run. Let me leave.

Let me.

Auri looked up. And nothing had changed. Not the raw intensity in his amber eyes, the magnetic pull that made Cam a moth by a flame. Nothing had changed. Not a thing.

Do you smell the same? As all our nights before. Do you sound the same? Because I can’t forget your laughter. Would you hold me the same, if we got one last chance? If only we.

I miss the warmth of you.

Cam found he could not stand. Instead his back hit the wall, that scrape of fabric on stone the first real sound in the cell. Auri went still, eyes tracing Cam’s every stumble, his every shudder.

Trapped against that wall, drowning a little, drowning, Cam felt a few tears leak free. Closing his eyes, because that made everything easier, Cam let out a watery laugh and said, “ _Hi. Fancy meeting you here. I was just stopping by myself for, you know, the view_.” Then words failed him for a long time. Still, Cam refused open his eyes.

I don’t ever want to remember this.

The sound of rattling chains and a panicked sort of plea. Against will, Cam looked. Auri pulled against his chains and leaned towards Cam, something in his eyes raw and hurting. Good. Me too.

Unable to look, unable to look away, Cam said softly, “ _Fieri told me. I didn’t want to believe it. But she told me. Everything_.” His voice cracked on that last word. Tears slid free. Auri pulled his chains to their full extent. Nothing. No chance. Acres of dirt, separating them.

Flicker, and away. Flicker, and away. Cam looked, flicker and away.

“ _I got so angry. When she told me. First at her, then at … I think I’m still angry. And I don’t know how to stop, Auri. I don’t know how to stop this_.” His hands shook into fists. “ _It hurt – gods it hurt worse than anything when Fieri said. When she explained … that you let Threndi hurt you. That you let yourself be tortured_.

“ _How am I supposed to forget the smell of your blood?_ ” He spat the words, shaking and shaking. “ _How?_ ”

Auri barely moved to breathe.

“ _I didn’t want to believe her. But she made me listen to everything you’ve done. Every. Single. Thing._ ” Now Cam was crying, harsh cuts, head buried in his hands. Shelter me. Ward me. Guard me.

Broken.

I am … Cam wrestled his agony down. Bury it and bury it all. When he finally looked up, he saw that Auri had crumpled sideways, into the floor. Good, you’re hurt too.

May it last forever.

Suddenly unable to stand still, Cam jerked his body into motion. Walking forward. Auri scrambled to his feet, moving back toward the wall. Fear lived like a live wire between them. Waiting for a victim. Closer, Cam kept moving closer through all that terrible tension. Closer and closer, until Cam could see the fine lines in his husband’s skin, the fading remains of a bruise, the edge of a dying scar.

The places I used to touch you when the night closed in.

I …

Unthinking, Cam reached out and brushed his thumb over that pale scar. Tender as a bruise. Auri closed his eyes. A thousand times, we have lived this a thousand times before.

“ _Auri …_ ” Cam breathed, his palm pressed to his love’s skin. “ _Auri_.” He loosened the gag and let it fall to the floor.

Crash.

And then the silence echoed.

Lost, drowning, Cam pressed their foreheads together. Skin against skin and bones against bones. The weight of them, holding together. It hurt Cam to breaking. Past breaking. Broken.

I am.

“ _Auri_.” He sobbed. “ _I’m so angry_.”

Leaning in, Auri grazed their noses together, existing side by side, lips nearly touching. Their own language beyond words. Then, “ _Cam_.” Just a breath, just enough. Two consonants, one vowel, his entire life summed up in a sound. “ _Cam_.”

Will it ever stop hurting?

“ _Cam._ ” Auri’s body curled around his, edge to edge, joint to joint, bone to bone. Cam crumpled and fought the crumpling. He ached and buried the burning of his chest. He shook. Against his hair, Auri whispered again, “ _Cam_.”

“ _Stop_ ,” Cam pleaded, broken. “ _Stop._ ” But he couldn’t pull away.

“ _Don’t cry_ ,” Auri murmured. Protector, comforter, my betrayer. Cam shook harder. He didn’t pull away. “ _Don’t cry, love_.”

Holding Cam close, Auri whispered against his hair, “ _It’ll be okay_.”

Cam pulled back. “ _It will? Really? How exactly do you see this being okay_.” He shoved against Auri’s shoulders.

“ _Cam._ ” Auri didn’t let go. “ _Please. Just listen. Just let me explain_.”

“ _Explain what, exactly? How you decided to betray everyone we know? At what point you thought, hmm maybe I should let myself be tortured to, you know, distract people? Or maybe we should talk about the fact that you’re comfortable with the slaughter of your people. You want to talk about that, Aurelian?_ ”

“ _I can’t remember the last time you called me Aurelian._ ”

“ _Well I can’t remember the last time we talked in a dungeon. Things change._ ”

Sighing deeply, eyes closed, Auri said, “ _Cam. Please. Please, let me explain._ ”

“ _Why?_ ” Cam felt his hands shaking, shaking. “ _What could you possibly say that will make this better?_ ”

“ _I don’t know._ ” Auri reached up, manacles clanking, to cup Cam’s jaw. “ _Because this is awful. Isn’t it._ ” He tried to smile at Cam, eyes too bright.

“ _Yeah._ ” Cam tried to smile back, his own eyes gleaming. “ _It is._ ”

 _“So please, please, at least let me try to tell you why._ ”

Nodding, Cam closed his eyes against the pain. Okay, okay.

Softly, Auri said, “ _I know I’ve done terrible things. I know that. But I couldn’t continue to watch people suffer. I couldn’t._

“ _No one cares about the people in the mountains. No cares about the people in outlaying villages. Starving. The bodies, Cam I’ve seen the bodies. No one cared about my mother. Or me. If I hadn’t joined the Guard, made myself respectable_ ,” he spit the word, “ _no one would. So how could I turn away?_

“ _Gods know, I know, Threndi isn’t perfect. She kills people and she hurts them. But so do we Cam. The Guard. We kill and we hurt people._ ”

“ _Don’t you dare_.” Cam snapped. “ _Don’t you dare compare us to her._ ”

Auri gripped his forearms tight, keeping Cam close. “ _You don’t like that? Well it’s true. We kill people and we hurt people on Fieri’s orders. We keep down rebellions. We stop uprisings of hungry fucking people. We carry the blame for the poverty and the starvation. We do._

“ _Threndi isn’t perfect. She isn’t even good. But she’s right_.”

This time, Cam didn’t bother to pull away. Instead he slammed Auri’s shoulders into the wall. “ _She’s right, huh? The massacres she’s committed? Those must be right. The piles of our people’s bodies? Those must be right. The slaughter she will unleash on our friends, on the people we love? Right. Right. How stupid of me not to see it._ ”

“ _Don’t twist my words like that. Don’t you. That’s not what I meant_.”

“ _But it’s what you’re comfortable with_.” Cam whispered, his head hanging low. “ _You think she’s justified_.

“ _How did you let it come to this, Auri? Maybe we’ve been wrong. All wrong. About everything. But why did you make this_ ,” us the ruins of everything, “ _the solution?_ ”

“ _Because I couldn’t see another way._ ”

“ _I hate you._ ” Cam it softly. And it echoed.

“ _You don’t … you don’t mean that._ ” Auri grabbed at Cam’s shoulders, held him tight. “ _You don’t._ ”

Cam looked Auri dead in the eyes. “ _Why not? It’s true_.”

Sometimes, the only sign of a fire is the ash when it’s gone.

Auri’s hands went limp in shock, dropping away. Cam pressed his advantage, crowding into Auri’s space, angry and vicious and wanting to hurt. “ _You wanted a slaughter? Well you’re going to get one. We’re going to war, lover darling, and some people aren’t coming back. So while you sit here, rotting away, think about how you’ll feel when the ashes start coming home. When it’s Astal, or Gwen, or Skirai, or me._

“ _When your family is burning on a pyre, you tell how you feel about your fucking options. You tell me if there was no other way_.” Shouting. Cam heard himself. Shouting. Even as his chest became a white out.

Bloodless, numb, Auri stared back. Shaking. Cam could feel him shaking. The he whispered something, too soft to hear.

“ _What?_ ” Cam snapped.

 _“I would never have let you get hurt_.” Auri finally snapped back, pushing into Cam. “ _Never. I had a deal. She didn’t fucking touch you. No one touched you. No one._ ”

“ _Are you insane?_ ” Cam stumbled back.

“ _Cam –_ ”

“ _No, I actually want to know. Are you out of your mind? When she tortured the living shit out of you, did your sanity just fall out onto the godsdamned floor? You know what. Fuck you. I’m leaving._ ”

“ _Cam. Cam no_.” Auri jerked on his chains, pulling as far they would go. It wasn’t far enough. “ _Please, don’t._ ”

“ _I can’t do this anymore_.” One step back. Then another. Cam felt himself shaking. The last string fraying, about to break clean away. “ _You’re insane and you’re going to die and I’m going to be alone. For the rest of my life. I can’t do this. I can’t, I can’t_.” Cam choked on his own breath, nearly falling to his knees. “ _I’m going to be alone._ ”

Cam shook. Wells. He was falling down a well. No end in sight. 

“ _I scared,_ ” he breathed, crumpling.

Auri crouched down, slowly. He held out a hand, his expression fragile and broken. He stayed quiet, as if they had time to waste, time to spare. As if they weren’t trapped in a dungeon at the end of the world. As if.

His words, when they came, were patient and gentle. “ _Me too_.”

And damn him. Damn him and burn him but Cam stood up and walked forward. Magnetized. A moth and its flame. Slid those calloused palms against his own. A thousand times. I would give anything for more.

Auri pulled Cam’s body close, curling tight around them both. “ _I’m sorry, love. I wish you could understand how much. I've made so many mistakes. But I’m here now, Cam. I’m here._ ”

Cam squeezed tight, burying his head in the crook of Auri’s neck. A few tears slipped free.

Never let me go.

Benediction and requiem and plea. “ _Cam._ ” His own name, maybe for the last time.

What happens when I can’t hear you again?

“ _Auri_.” Let me say your name. One last time.

Before.

Cam swallowed, fighting his own lungs. Before, “ _Auri. I have to go_.”

And Auri nodded, his turn to start shaking, his turn for tears. “ _I know_.” But his arms didn’t let go, holding on despite chains, despite everything, a ceaseless yearning.

Pulling back, Cam laid their foreheads together. Bone to bone and breath to breath. “ _I have to_.”

Auri nodded again, clear lines painting scars. Their fingers tangled together, a ceaseless wanting. Reaching up, Cam slid a hand through his husband’s hair.

A thousand times, we have lived this a thousand times before.

One kiss, an open press against Auri’s throat. The beat of his pulse, it’s living roar. Another, the brush of a sparrow’s wing, against Auri’s cheek. The first place Cam ever really touched him. Finally, their mouths came together and he was lost in it. Pouring into one another, a thousand cups of sun. Lost, I am lost in you.

I love you. Swear you’ll never let me go. 

Swear it.

Pouring into each other and I’m bleeding out.

Goodbye.

I love you and I’m losing you. 

Goodbye. Goodbye.

No. Please. Just a little more time.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

There goes my light.


	35. Try Not to Spook Wild Horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that isn't entirely depressing! Who even knew that was still possible (certainly not me)

And the horizon boiled.

Gwen watched it, exhaustion a fine hallucinogen. By her side, Astal slumped low in the saddle, practically asleep. Gwen had been keeping an eye on her all morning, that horse liked to wander.

Two days. They had been riding for two days. Closing her eyes, Gwen tried to block out the grit and the dust. And there were still two days to go. Godsdamn.

“Gwen – oh, sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Gwen opened her eyes, smiling a little.

“Hello Arthur. Come to join us plebeians in the rank and file?”

“What? No. No. I wasn’t … I didn’t mean, I was only at front because – ”

Out of pity, Gwen cut him off, “Arthur. I’m joking.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

They rode in silence, Arthur’s face still showing that adorable blush he would never admit to having.

Trying again, Arthur finally said, “How have you been?”

“Good. I’m – ” exhausted bone deep, wrung through, to tired to lie “I’m exhausted. It’s been a hard week.”

Arthur nodded and, in a voice barely audible over the din of horses and riders and jangling metal, he said, “I understand. I do.”

“Arthur…” Gwen dragged her fingers through her hair. Not this again. Not dragging up all their shit, all her so-called sins.

“No, no, you misunderstand.” He spoke quickly. “I’m not blaming you. I just, I want to say that I know. A little. Of how you’re feeling right now, that tiredness that never seems to lift. I understand, a little.”

“Thanks.” Gwen smiled at him, just a little quirk of the mouth.

He smiled too, then, “Gwen.”

Oh no. I know that tone. “Arthur, you don’t …”

“I think I do, in fact, owe you an apology. I’m sorry. This seems like a terrible time to say it, but the times are always terrible now. So I’m sorry. About everything.”

All our shit. All our sins.

“Arthur.” Gwen sighed, and bit back tears. “Me too.”

He nodded, eyes on the horizon line, eyes too bright.

“I’m tired of fighting,” Gwen said, loud enough for only him to hear. “I’m tired of it all. Can we just be Gwen and Arthur again?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled at her, that blinding light and a cornea of gold. Extending a hand, he said, “Hi Gwen. I’m Arthur.”

Shoving at his shoulder, Gwen laughed. “Hi yourself.”

“I’ve missed you, Gwen.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

A sound had them both turning their heads to the right, and Arthur said, biting his lip to keep from laughing, “Is – is she snoring?”

“Yeah.” Gwen sighed. “That happens.”

“Should we wake her up?”

“And miss out on free entertainment? No. I usually just wait until she either stops or falls off of her horse.”

“Friendship.” Arthur rolled his eyes at Gwen.

“Yeah,” Gwen smiled bright, eyes to the sun. “Friendship.”

Remember this. The sunlight and shadows the smell of clean straw in the wind. Laughter and gold and all the dark in between. Remember.

Gwen dug nails into her own palms. Remember. Remember.

So when the end comes you can see it, one last time.

\+ + +

“ _I don’t like this_.” Astal collapsed on the ground next to Gwen, stretching her boots toward the fire.

“ _Well hello to you too_.” Gwen poked Astal on the shoulder.

“ _Uh-hu. Hi. We’re all dead_.”

“ _How are you this cranky. You spent all day sleeping_.”

“ _On a horse. On a godsdamned horse. I think my spine is permanently dislodged._ ”

“ _Am I supposed to feel bad or …_ ”

“ _Shut up._ ” Astal muttered, burrowing her back against the log Gwen was sitting on. “ _Shut up._ ”

“ _That can’t be comfortable_ ,” Gwen remarked.

“ _It’s not_.”

“ _Oh good. Well. Now that you’re thoroughly uncomfortable and prophesizing doom, what’s going on?_ ” Gwen moved down next to Astal, shoulder and shoulder. “ _Good gods, this log really does suck_.”

“ _Told you_.” Astal said, a little triumphantly. “ _Just like I’m telling you. We’re all dead_.”

Gwen sighed, massaging a hand against her forehead. “ _Yeah. I heard you the first time_.”

Leaning back, Astal continued, “ _Threndi is going grab us by the balls and hang us out to dry._ ”

“ _How encouraging. Thank you, Astal_.”

“ _No, honest_.” She ripped up chunks of grass and threw them into the sputtering fire. “ _I don’t like it. I don’t our troops being spilt in half. I don’t like relying on spy work to fool Threndi. I don’t like that we’re still waiting for the rest of Camelot’s troops. I don’t like that we could be heading for a slaughter. I. Don’t. Like. It_.” More grass flew into the flames.

Gwen watched the ashes dance.

“ _I know,_ ” she replied. “ _Me either. But we have to trust Fieri here_.”

“ _Sure. Trust Fieri. Got it. Except Fieri trusted …_ ” Astal’s voice dropped off, unable to finish that sentence.

Softly, Gwen responded, _“We all trusted Auri._ ”

“ _Yeah. Yeah. I know. Look, can we not talk about this anymore_.”

“ _Course_.” And Gwen tried not to let Astal see the look of worry on her face.

We never talk about it. Not since that night. You’re running. You’re running scared and war is a time when fear gets you killed. We never talk about it.

At a loss, Gwen wrapped an arm around Astal’s shoulders, squeezing tight. Wishing her friend would hug back, even for a moment.

“Hi guys. Rough night?”

Merlin sprawled into the dirt a few feet from Gwen, a giant grin on his face.

“Hi Merlin,” Gwen answered skeptically, a little concerned by that smile.

“Hey,” Astal responded. “Have you heard that we’re all going to die?”

Gwen nearly groaned out loud. Not _this_ again.

But Merlin just laughed. “Why? Because we’re currently riding to war with half our forces, ready to surprise ambush Threndi’s forces at Dyta. Except it might not be a surprise because she’s one smart bastard. And we’ll definitely be outnumbered if the rest of Camelot’s troops don’t reach us before the ambush begins. And we have no idea when our troops trying to fool Threndi up by Brickin will be able to come join us.

“Yeah. We are so very dead. But I plan on using Arthur as a human shield the entire time, I’ll come out fine.” He kept grinning at them, swaying his feet a little before the fire. Gwen and Astal just stared at him in shock.

Astal muttered to Gwen, “ _Did he just threaten regicide?_ ”

“ _It’s normal. Don’t ask_.”

“ _He and Arthur have a very strange relationship._ ”

“ _You don’t know the half of it_.”

Leaning forward a little, Astal said, “Merlin. Just purely out of curiosity. How the hell do you know all this?”

Gwen found herself nodding emphatically.

Still focused on the fire, Merlin responded, “Oh Arthur’s been ranting about it for days now. Really, it’s all he talks about. That, and suddenly he now hates his socks.” Merlin gave the universe a commiserating shrug as if to say, _kings_.

“ _Don’t worry_.” Gwen said to Astal. She could feel panicked confusion rolling off her friend in waves. “ _Merlin already knows enough state secrets to bring every kingdom on this continent crashing down_.”

“ _He’s currently trying to braid grass_.” Astal hissed back, her voice slightly hysterical.

“ _Yeah._ ” Gwen responded, fighting back her own laughter. “ _He’s a quirky kind of guy, but I trust him._ ”

Sighing a little, Astal said, “ _Well. I’ll take that_. Merlin, you’re braiding that wrong, you want to – here, let me show you.”

As Astal redid his horribly mangled braid, Merlin asked conversationally, “So, how do you two know? About the whole ‘trying to fool Threndi but we’ll probably just die plan’?”

 Sounding a little numbed by the sheer amount of Merlin that had descended upon them, Astal finally answered, “We helped Nefir pass along fake messages from the captured spies. He and Fieri figured we already knew too much, so we might as well be useful.”

“I should recommend that attitude to Arthur. I’m a very useful sort of person.”

“Thank you, Merlin.” Gwen put her head between her knees, unable to hold in the laughter any longer. Astal looked like she simply wanted to bury her head in the dirt and be done with it.

Grinning at the two of them, Merlin said, “Well. I’m off to see Leon next. See how quickly I can traumatize him. Maybe I’ll bring up the poetry incident …” Wandering off, Merlin gave Gwen a quick smile over his shoulder. Returning it, Gwen mouthed _thank you_. By her side, Astal no longer sat glowering into the night sky.

Progress.

It almost lasted.

They were nearly back to their tent when Gwen froze, and said, " _shit_ ," Astal nearly smacking into her back. So tired. I am so godsdamned tired. Gwen closed her eyes and felt a burning.

By her side, Astal echoed, “ _Shit_.”

Cam sat in front of their tent, clutching a bottle and clearly drunk. Nothing existed behind those glazed eyes. Or at least, nothing wanted to.

_“I thought Skirai was keeping an eye on him tonight._ ” Gwen hissed.

“ _She was supposed to. He must have slipped – crap_.”

Seeing them, Cam stood and waved the bottle. “G _wen! Astal! Come … come join. I got plenty_.” He took a long swig. “ _Nope. It’s all gone. Alll gone_.” Looking at their expressions, Cam faltered. “ _Are you … are you mad at me? I didn’t meant to, I promise, please don’t be mad too. I –_ ”

Cutting him, Gwen stepped forward and took the bottle from his hands. Put in on the ground. Gently, she smoothed back a lock of his hair, like my father once did for me. “ _No, Cam. We aren’t angry. I promise_.”

“ _But_.” Cam crowded closer to Gwen, whispering to loudly for a whisper, “ _But she looks mad._ ”

“ _Astal is just worried about you. I am too, Cam. We talked about the drinking. Cam. Cam._ ” He had stopped listening to her, attention fixed on the bottle. Sighing Gwen said, “ _It’s empty. Come on, let’s get you back to your tent._ ”

“ _No_.” Cam stepped into her path. “ _No, let’s no_.”

Astal came up and took him by the shoulder. “ _You’re drunk, Cam. You need to sleep. And so do we. Let’s go_.”

“ _Guys_.” Cam pulled away from Astal. “ _I don’t … can’t we just_.”

“ _Come on_.” Astal intertwined their arms. “ _You’ll feel better in the morning._ ”

“ _Doubtful,_ ” Gwen muttered, too quiet for Cam to hear.

“ _No_.” Cam stopped walking. He yanked his arm free. “ _Fuck that. I’m not going back there_.”

“ _Cam –_ ” Astal cautioned, her voice soft and low, like she was speaking to a wild horse.

But he didn’t listen. “ _I’m not going_.” Shouting now. Shouting, “ _It’s too quiet. It’s so damn quiet!_ ” Gwen felt her heart break a little too.

Giving Gwen a small nod, Astal approached Cam again, careful and slow. Wrapped him in a tight hug when he didn’t run away. “ _Shhh_ ,” she whispered. “ _It’s alright, it’s alright_.”

Coughing up tears, Cam asked, “ _Can’t I just stay with you guys tonight._ ”

Astal shot Gwen a panicked look over Cam’s shoulder, as if to say: _where?_

Gwen gave her a look right back, shrugging and gesturing at Cam: _I don’t know, but…_

Taking a long breath in, Astal nodded: _okay._ Patting his shoulder, Astal said, “ _You can stay with us, but I hear one peep and I’m shoving you outside. Gwen will go get your bed roll._ ”

Gwen’s eyebrows shot into her forehead: _I will?_

_Yes._

_Okay_. She lifted her hands in mock surrender. One step, two step. _I’m going_. Three step, four step and then Gwen heard Cam say, “ _I’m scared Astal. And it’s all so quiet. And dark. Astal. I don’t know what to do. I don’t._ ”

 


	36. Smoke, Light, Water

Do not shift. Do not blink. Do not breathe.

Not on the inhale. Not on the exhale. 

Be smoke. Be light. Be water.

Like the whistle of wind or the rustle of grass.

Invisible.

Like smoke, like light, like water.

Press your chest into the dirt and lie still.

Count troops. Count sentries. Count horses.

Flicker of an eye, careful, careful, flicker of an eye.

Keep counting and let the spring air wash through you.

Reformation in the natural order of things.

Blue light, make me kin of your kind.

I ask humbly. Chest pressed to dirt. Eyes shielded from the sky.


	37. Makhedi Makroi

_Makhedi Makroi_

Gwen felt the chant in her bones, whisper and a roar.

_Makhedi Makroi_

War cry. Her blood pounded. Gods save me.

On either side of her, shoulders pressing against shoulders, pulses thundering against pulses, a whisper passing in the night.

_Makhedi Makroi Makhedi Makroi_

Darkness still fell, spreading overhead like ink dropped into a glass jar. But not for long. Gwen breathed inside the belly of the beast. Not for long.

When the first inkling of dawn showed itself, they would charge on Threndi’s camp. Devastation and destruction and a swift, sure end.

Let it be over. Gwen closed her eyes. Let’s finish this.

By her side, Astal vibrated with impatience, sword clutched tight in her right hand.

Soon, soon.

_Makhedi Makroi_

There shows the dawn.

A thin scent of woodsmoke drifted on the air. Gwen knew she would smell of it for days, if she survived that long. Gripped Astal’s hand tight for a moment, Gwen felt her friend squeeze back. Remember this. The half-light and the twilight and the smell of wood in the breeze. Remember.

Gwen held onto Astal’s hand for another breath. Remember. Remember. When the end comes, I want to see this one last time.

_Makhedi Makroi_

Tipping, tipping, a scale is tipping and soon it will bring the world crashing down.

Boom.

The first oil barrel blew. Yelling split the night. Shouts and the glow of flames. Boom. Barrel number two. Boom. Boom.

Every nerve, every fiber, ready to snap. The beast around Gwen’s body, ready to charge. Her nerves went tight as a wire. Tighter. Ready … steady … ready aim fire.

_Makhedi Makroi_

The roar. Gwen’s unit, a thousand strong, broke over the ridge and made straight for Threndi’s camp, now engulfed in flames. Gwen roared, her face lit wild in the light. A thousand bodies joining thousands of bodies on every side, the end of the world burns at my fingertips.

The world burns.

A frenzied dance and Gwen flew with it. No time to do anything but run forward. Into the light. Sweat and fear and pounding blood, in the distance Gwen heard screaming. Her own feet carrying her towards the sound.

In the hellscape of fire and dawn. Gwen saw the moment that the combined armies of Analuan and Camelot hit Threndi’s growing line of soldiers. Impact.

Swords up.

Gwen launched herself in the melee. Almost immediately, she lost sight of Astal but there was no time to look. The thin twilight blurred friend and foe and blood until Gwen could hardly tell who she shouldn’t kill.

A sword missed her neck by a hair. Then it came back for round two. Gwen found herself ducking and weaving and paring the blows of a man twice her height. Keep moving, keep moving, never let him find the advantage, make sure you –

Gwen stabbed the man right through the gut –

always find the advantage.

Covered in blood, Gwen let the fight consume her. Drowning in the roar.

\+ + +

Too exhausted to move, Gwen sat collapsed by a fire, listlessly watching the flames. Her bones ached. The wind rustled in her hair and even that felt too tender.

Closing her eyes did nothing. The flames still danced. And the screaming echoed.

Still damp from the sudden rainstorm earlier, Gwen inched closer to the fire. She would be happy to never see rain again. Even happier to never fight in it. The mud, oh gods the mud. That rainstorm had given Threndi’s army exactly the opening they needed to regroup and hit back hard.

Gwen wondered if she would ever wash the scent of blood from her lungs.

“Tired already?”

Gwen’s eyes flashed open. There crouching beside her… when Camelot’s reinforcement’s came and he hadn’t been there … lunging forward, Gwen caught him in a tight hug and said, “Elyan. Elyan!”

“Gwen!” He hugged her back just as tightly. “Gods it’s good to see you.”

Pulling back, Gwen stared and stared at her brother’s face. “I thought – when you didn’t come with the other troops. I thought I might not ever see you again.” Her voice grew soft on those last words.

Elyan smiled at her and said, “My unit got delayed, we had to handle some bandits on Camelot’s border. You didn’t think I’d miss seeing my little sister again, did you?”

“You didn’t even know I was here.” Gwen’s eyes skittered away.

“Arthur sent me a letter, told me everything. Said when the time came for Camelot’s troops to head out I needed to ‘move my ass’. I’m sorry I was late.”

Elyan held onto Gwen’s shoulders until she looked him in the eyes again. “I’m sorry about everything, Gwen,” he whispered, eyes gleaming in the fire light, “Dad would never forgive me for what I did.”

“He’d probably be pretty mad,” Gwen sniffled a little, giving Elyan a small smile.

“Furious,” Elyan smiled back.

Gripping her brother’s hands tightly in her own, Gwen asked quietly, “Do you ever miss him?”

“All the damned time.”

“Me too.” Studying their hands carefully, as if answers could be found in the way two palms fit together, Gwen finally said, “Thank you for saying sorry. Because I needed you. And I missed you all the time.”

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry Gwen.” He hugged her again, whispering fiercly, “I love you.”

“I love you too, stupid.”


	38. The Battlefield, Part 1

“ _Can’t they_ ,” duck, “ _Be a little more_ ,” swing, “ _creative?_ ”

Catching the soldier’s blade against her own, Gwen held steady just long enough for Decker to stab him though the chest.

“ _Why_ ,” Decker gasped, shoving loose hair out of his face, “ _you don’t like it when people try and decapitate you?_ ”

“ _You’re hilarious_ ,” Gwen replied, letting the man’s weight fall away from her. For a blessed moment the battle lulled around her. For a blessed moment she breathed, breathed, breathed.

“ _Ah fuck,_ ” she muttered. A man at least six feet tall was making right for her. “ _Fuck._ ” Willing her exhausted body into action, Gwen wiped her bloody palms on her pants and gripped the pommel of her sword tight. “ _Decker – you got my back on this?_ ”

“ _Let’s do it_.”

Then the storm hit. A massive broadsword, swinging for her hips, her torso, her legs. And – wait for it – her head. Gwen ducked just in time, grinning like a wild thing. Ducking and weaving and dancing, tire the brute out. Make him weak.

The sword sliced open her forearm and Gwen stumbled back with a yell. Hot blood poured over her, a throbbing ache. Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Decker stabbed him in the leg before kicking him in the balls. He went down, hard.

“ _Thanks_ ,” Gwen said, breathing sharply through her nose. 

“ _No problem._ ”

The fighting swirled back around them, waves decimating a shoreline, black water beating bodies down, down, down. Into bloody, pulpy, nothing.


	39. The Battlefield, Part 2

A day became days became a week. Became a slog. A battlefield littered with broken swords and broken bodies and a plague of flies.

Hell hath assembled here.

Every day, more vultures circled.

Every day, more people flooded from the mountains, new recruits for Threndi’s bloody campaign.

Every day, more bodies burned on the pyres.

Smoke stains in the sky.

Days became hours became minutes became seconds drawn out, past the point of life. Breath’s thinnest edge.

Still the pyres burned.


	40. The Battlefield, Part 3

A week became two weeks.

Who knew bodies could break down into so many pieces?

Who knew? Who knew? Who knew?

Gwen always smelled blood now, she always smelled like blood.

I am drowning in a thing thicker than water.

From a map, Threndi looked lucky. That those initial oil fires never touched her food supply. That her soldiers had grouped themselves in time. That they were able to entrench their forces on higher ground. From a map, it looked lucky. From a vulture’s eye, it looked like dinner.

From the ground it looked like a wave of black water, rising.


	41. The Battlefield, Part 4

Time wasted away.

Her mouth, her mouth couldn’t hold down food. Every time she tried. Vomit. Gwen only kept trying so Cam would keep trying. The two of them, hoping the other could eat. Side by side at the end of the world. Astal never made it to meals anymore. Or the battlefield. So many wounded, she was drowning under the weight of it. At night, Gwen would have to drag her back to the tent.

Time is wasting away. Take what you can while you have it.

Sometimes at night, when the walls closed in, Gwen would grab Cam and go sit with Arthur, Merlin, and the others from Camelot. To talk and remember and forget for a while. To let the firelight take them away. Sometimes Merlin and Gwaine could even get Cam to smile. Gwen would always be grateful for that.

Hold on. Just hold on.

Before crawling back to her tent, Gwen would hug each of them goodbye, holding on long, longer, longest. This is how I want to remember you.

 


	42. The Battlefield, Part 5

Two weeks. Two lifetimes, dragged out beyond all reckoning.

Tell me the difference.

Hacking her way forward, Gwen slipped, stumbled. Went down. She saw in hypra-motion as her own legs lost their grip on the earth.

Lost – I am – _smack_

Gwen hit the dirt.

Wet mud crawled up her nose, bathed the fever of her skin. Don’t you dare close your eyes, don’t you dare. Scrambling, Gwen tried to stand, every inch of her body too vulnerable, too raw. But her arms, what a weight.

Someone gripped the chainmail at her back, yanking her upwards.

“This is no time for a nap, Guinevere.” Arthur stood by her side, grinning and spinning his sword, a rapid one-two flick.

Gwen laughed and rolled her eyes, “Screw off, Arthur Pendragon.”

He winked at her, “It would be my genuine pleasure.”

Shoving at his shoulder, Gwen said, “Some of us are busy – on your left!”

So we dance again. Blood and mud and smoke and – we dance. If I die, at least I saw you.


	43. The Pyres

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm real sorry guys.

Shivering. Gwen sat at the edge of a medical tent and shivered. A hot, dull ache pounded in her left arm. Infected, Talia had told her. Lucky you aren’t dead.

Lucky. That’s how Gwen felt. Lucky.

A noonday sun tried to burn through the cloud cover and failed. Grey and hot and wet, air smothered everything down. Gwen closed her eyes. Wait here, Talia had said, I’ll be with you soon. Try to get some rest. Try, try, try.

Gwen was trying.

Still, she shivered in the grey heat. Try, try, try.

Was somebody screaming?

Why was somebody screaming?

Gwen would regret opening her eyes.

Because it could. Not. Be.

No.

Not that body. Dangling in Kant’s arms as he walked towards the tent. It couldn’t be.

Gwen stood suddenly. Her eyes were wrong. Her godsdamned eyes were wrong.

But. Her knees shivered violently. But she knew that face. That hair. Those glazed eyes, still wide open. She knew.

Her eyes were not wrong.

She might have screamed.

Kant stopped in front of her, right at the edge of the world.

“ _Gwen_ ,” he said, “ _I’m so sorry_.”

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. When will people ever stop saying, I’m so sorry.

Sorry won’t … sorry won’t …

Bring him back.

Kneeling, Kant waited for Gwen to join him, fragile and slow, before resting the body in her arms.

Not feeling the sounds her chest made, Gwen sobbed, “ _Cam. Cam. No._ ”

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

Shaking hard enough to shatter her own bones, Gwen wiped a splatter of mud from Cam’s pallid cheek. “ _Please no. Please. Please. No_ ,” she whispered. “ _Please don’t leave_.”

But he was already gone. No one could breathe after an arrow had punched through their throat.

Gwen’s body rocked as she held up the pieces of him, cradling his head on her shoulder.

“ _Don’t be gone_ ,” she whispered against his hair. “ _Please. I still need you, Cam. Please_.”

A howling ripped through, severing off the world.

Distantly, Gwen heard screaming.

This time, I will not open my eyes. Whatever it is, whatever comes next, I will not open my eyes. Pressing her cheek to Cam’s hair, Gwen held him close. Ribcage to ribcage, bone to bone. All that remained real in the world. Breath into breath. Please, come home.

Please.

“ _Gwen._ ” A hand rested on her knee. “ _Gwen_.”

“ _Don’t touch me_ ,” she snapped, “ _Get. Away_.”

The hand left, but the voice remained. “ _Gwen, it’s okay. You can let him go now_.”

She shook her head, tears falling clean and free. I can’t. I won’t. I will not open my eyes. Please. Don’t ask me to –

“ _Gwen, it’s time to let him go_.”

Please.

Looking up, Gwen saw Des kneeling in front of her, tears shinning against his eyes. Like her own.

A watery little dome to bury us all.

“ _But,_ ” she whispered, “ _But I can’t. I can’t let him …_ ” be gone.

“ _I know_.” Des looked her in the eyes and he nodded and he meant it when he said, “ _I know_.”

Barely breathing, Gwen asked, “ _Promise you’ll take care of him?_ ”

“ _I promise_.”

The longest pause.

“Des _, I don’t – Des. I can’t_.” Gwen held Cam all the tighter, feeling the heat of him leech into the chill of her. “ _I can’t_.”

“ _I know, but you have to try_.”

Try. Try. Try.

But what if I – what if I don’t

want to.

But you have to. Even though it will never okay.

Gwen nodded, a jerk of the head, the final snap to a marionette’s strings.

Carefully, tender like a bruise, Des slide his arms behind Cam’s torso, under his still legs. Okay. Gwen let go. A keening began in her chest. Okay. Gwen stared at her hands, flat and cold before her. That’s it then.

Okay. That’s all.

But I miss you.

It might have been hours. That she knelt there. A rainstorm began and Gwen did not care. Did not. Would not. It all hurt – a jerk, deep within her shoulders – it all hurt too much.

Something settled against her back. Warm. Alive. An arm. Gwen turned and saw crystal blue eyes, shinning into her own. Gold hair, matted and dull, that nevertheless still held the sun. Reaching up, Gwen brushed away a few strands, let her fingers linger against the heat of living skin.

“It’s okay, Gwen,” Arthur said, blue eyes shining like hers.

“No. It’s not,” Gwen replied, leaning against his shoulder.

“I know.” Arthur let her linger there. Arthur held on. “Let’s go inside now. Let’s get you warm.”

Gwen just shook her head, staring at all the muck and mud and the blood holding her down.

“Come on,” Arthur stood, taking Gwen’s forearms into his hands. “You can, I promise.”

Promises, promises. Gwen closed her eyes and pushed up, even as her legs crumpled against the weight of everything. Arthur didn’t say a world. He just held on.

Holding Gwen close for a moment, Arthur pressed a kiss against her temple and said, “We’ll go find Astal, okay?”

In the rain, in the whiteout, Gwen whispered, “yes,” fierce and violent. All she wanted was her friend. Keeping one arm entangled with Gwen’s, Arthur led her away from the medical tent, their backs to the pyres.


	44. All That We See or Seem

Home.

Four walls. One roof. Dirt floor. Blankets, spilling across the ground. Gwen tried to pick them up, but her fingers slid through. Mirage.

Her father’s blankets. Gwen cradled them between her finger tips. Magenta tastes like the sunrise and the last time you hugged me. Indigo tastes like the day I walked away. Violet … violet tastes like every night I lived here.

Pots. Pans. Candles. Candle holders. Plates. Forks. Knives. Spoons. Cups. Mugs. Curtains. Bedding. Pillows. Clothes. Shoes. Vases. Flowers.

Home.

Every divet, every bump in the wood. Every corner. Every crack. Her skin remembered. Her lungs kept their promise to never let go. Four walls. One roof. A dirt floor.

On the floor, Gwen felt the dirt and the mud and a life once ground down rising up through her, the membrane of her skin, the gaps in her skull where the light shines through. Heavy in the corners of her ribs, weight in the marrow of her spine.

I promised I would shove you out. I promised I would survive.

I survived. I could not shove this out.

I do not want to.

Her body lay in dirt and breathed dirt in.

Tick, tick, tick. The mantle clock. Tick, tick, tick.

I never dreamed this would happen.

Tick, tick, tick.

Then, one day, it did.

Tick, tick, tick.

The worst has come, and there is relief in that.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I miss you. I’ll always miss you.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

All my bodies.

Tock.


	45. On the Other Side of Silence

Dawn cracked the world half open, a scarlet spill. Grass, still damp with dew, ignited into shades of vermillion and orange. A light susurrus filled the breeze. Somewhere, far across the earth, a bird sang.

_Whoop-woo Whoop-woo             Whoop-woo Whoop-woo_

The horizon’s edge held the promise of thunder, though the air still blew clean.

Later, Gwen stared up at the dome of heaven and shivered. Two days since the reinforcements had arrived. Two days since they still had not won the war. Two days, two weeks, two years, two lifetimes, I am not sure I can take two more of this.

And so the battle raged on, Threndi’s soldiers too deeply entrenched to be dislodged, Analuan and Camelot’s armies too strong to stop fighting.

Force and the immoveable rock.

Astal appeared by Gwen’s side, breathing heavily and face splattered with mud. “ _I really should have stayed in the med tents_.”

“ _No shit_.” Gwen rolled her eyes.

Then the fighting subsumed them again. It might have been hours later when she heard Astal say, “ _Oh my gods. Gwen. Gwen!_ ”

Feeling Astal jerk on her shoulder, Gwen turned around. Who got shot, who got killed who who who –

Oh my gods.

Around them, the fighting slowed and then stilled. Across the battlefield, a silence fell.

In the space between their armies, a gapping widening by the second, Fieir and Threndi walked towards each other.

A light susurrus filled the growing breeze. Somewhere, a bird was singing, _Whoop-woo Whoop-woo_. Light seemed to concentrate at the center of field, a substance thicker than darkness. Everything else became mist.

“ _This ends here_.” Four feet away from Threndi and Fieri’s voice echoed across the armies. “ _It ends now_.”

Staring into Fieri’s eyes, Threndi pulled her sword free. “ _To the death_.”

Fieri nodded. “ _To the death_.”

They bowed, bodies reflecting the other. Perfect mirrors.

Brutal like a viper pit. That’s how they fought, swords out to kill. Gwen gripped Astal’s hand tight, not bothering to breathe.

Circling and circling, sniffing out the other’s weakness, feinting and retreating, Fieri with her fluid grace and Threndi with her speed.

Dangerous. Gwen could taste thunder in the air.

Enough playing around. Fieri moved in to strike and the fight began.

Swords arced through the air, leaving blurs of light in their wake. Gwen could barely hear the clashing of steel over the howling cheers of both armies. The concussive roar of people who wanted blood, who wanted revenge for all the suffering and loss, but would settle for watching their enemies’ leader die.

Threndi was too fast. She had Fieri on the defensive, pushing her back, pushing her down, unrelenting. That’s when Fieri made a mistake, that’s when her foot slipped and Threndi struck, her sword slicing into Fieri’s shoulder. Grinning like a feral thing.

Fieri didn’t waste time on a scream. Kicking Threndi in the knee, Fieri moved out of range, and readjusting her grip on her sword, went on the offensive.

The air hazy with dust stirred up by their feet. A mirage, but for the chanting and blood.

Too evenly matched. Gwen could see it, even with Fieri wounded the two women danced within their own equilibrium. If one of them didn’t – shoving Threndi off balance, Fieri swung low and sliced her across the thigh.

Pushing the advantage, Fieri struck at Threndi again and again, trying to drive the other woman into the dirt. A roar built in the crowd, sound beyond the reckoning of words. But then Fieri dropped her guard for a moment too long.

Gwen saw what would happen before it did. The flash of blood spiraling in a pre-determined arc. A throat gashed wide open with no chance of becoming whole. Arteries spilling into the dirt. And silence.

But Fieri jerked her head back at the last moment, saving her life but earning a nasty scar.

Both armies yelled, a concussive noise, a wild fire sucking up all the fire.

Kicking Fieri in the chest, Threndi threw her to the ground with a thud. A boom Gwen felt, echoing right in her chest. Fieri’s sword skittered away, into the dirt.

Threndi swung her sword down and Fieri caught the blade with bare hand, stopping it an inch from her neck. Threndi leaned in. Scarlet spilled down Fieri’s arm, dying the dust.

Immovable object. Unstoppable force.

Shoving her knee into Threndi’s gut, Fieri sent her rolling into the dirt. Grabbing her sword, Fieri got to her feet and never gave Threndi the chance to stand.

Backpedaling, blocking, Threndi’s movements became desperate. Slashing at Threndi’s right hand, Fieri sent her sword spinning away. Trapped, Fieri had her trapped.

Still, Gwen almost didn’t the death when it came. Faster than the eye moves, Fieri ran her sword through Threndi’s heart.

Silence.

Except for the gasping. Two lungs, trying so desperately to draw in air. Except for the scrabbling. Two hands, trying to claw steel from their chest. Trying to do something, trying to make the dying stop. But unable to do something, unable to do anything.

Holding Threndi by the shoulder, Fieri lowered her those final inches into the dirt. Her sword remained in Threndi’s chest until the final breath rang free. Until after.

Then Fieri stood, her spine straight beneath that vicious blue dome where the sun beat down. Threndi glazed eyes stared upward, looking directly into the ball of fire. Into light.

Fieri pulled her sword free. Held it high. Bloody silver, dripping onto her face, her hair, her chest. Bloody silver and a land on fire.


	46. Love You Too, Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All:)
> 
> So it's no secret that this story hasn't exactly been short on emotional trauma. With that in mind, here's a chapter that's 99.8% trauma-free. Nearly pure fluff. The literary equivalent of a bag of marshmellows. Enjoy!

Stretching her arms toward the fire, Gwen sank lower into the chair. Nearly midnight and the tavern wasn’t close to empty. Jalen would kick them all out in a few hours, but until then … Gwen smiled and let whiskey burn at the back of her tongue.

Tomorrow – Gwen wouldn’t think about tomorrow. Ashes and pyres and – it could wait, it would come. Goodbyes would come tomorrow.

Kicking Astal’s foot lightly, she said, “ _I’m surprised you’re making it this long after how late you stayed up last night._ ”

“ _You’re just fishing for information_ ,” Astal muttered, not bothering to open her eyes.

“ _Of course. Since it seems to be working so well – how was he?_ ” Gwen kicked Astal foot a few more times.

_“Stop that_ ,” Astal jerked her leg away, smiling. “ _Go bother somebody else_.”

“ _I’m very comfortable right here_.”

“ _I bet you are_.” Astal opened one eyelid a slit and then dragged herself upright, saying, “ _Fine. If you won’t leave me alone_.”

Gwen scooted her chair closer. “ _Tell me everything._ ”

“ _Let’s just say, I think this one-time thing could become a multiple-time thing._ ”

“ _So better than Baylen?_ ”

“ _Oh gods, he was so much better than Baylen. I don’t think I fell asleep until dawn. But next time, we’re meeting up in my room. His bed is really old and lumpy_.”

“ _Well, as long as he wasn’t old and lumpy…_ ”

Astal covered her face with a hand and groaned, “ _Gods, that wasn’t even a good sex joke. Was it supposed to be a sex joke? Because it was terrible._ ”

Gwen laughed and shrugged, “ _I’m drunk. What do you want from me?_ ”

“ _That’s fair_ ,” Astal replied, raising her own glass in Gwen’s direction. “ _But speaking of boys…_ ” she leaned forward, eyes glinting, “ _What’s going on between you and Arthur?_ ”

“ _What?_ ” Gwen could feel herself blushing. “ _Nothing. Nothing is going on_.”

“ _Uh-h_ u.” Astal look unconvinced. “ _Because from my completely unbiased perspective, you two can’t seem to stop flirting._ ”

“ _We do not flirt_.”

“ _And I didn’t spend four hours having sex yesterday_.”

“ _Four hours?_ ”

“ _It was amazing. But we’re getting off track. You and Arthur. Tell me, when you still lived in Camelot, did you and he ever –_ ”

Gwen cut her off, saying too quickly, “ _No. No. Never like that. I mean, we kissed but, Arthur was always … reserved. Even with me_.”

“ _He might not be feeling so reserved anymore_.”

“Astal _!_ ”

“ _No, I’m serious._ Clearly _you have no idea how he looks at you. And, may I say, he’s not bad looking. You could do worse._ ”

“ _I thought you hated him?_ ”

“ _I’ve transitioned into considering him as an exceptionally dense, sometimes-asshole who threw away the best thing he ever had._ ”

Gwen smiled at her friend. “ _You’re sweet_.”

“ _I’m honest. But since he seems to be recovering from that bout of insanity, I’d say, if you want to, go for it._ ”

“ _Proposition Arthur_.” Gwen could barely keep a straight face while saying the words.

But Astal’s face was serious when asked, “ _Well, do you want to?_ ”

“ _I – I don’t know_.” Gwen played with the rim of her cup. “ _Maybe? But with Arthur, things could never be that casual. He would take it so seriously. He would think – he’d think I want to come back to Camelot with him_.”

“And do you want to do that?” Something fragile blinked from inside Astal’s eyes.

“ _Leave all this?_ ” Gwen gestured wide to the world around her. “ _Never. Not in a million years_.”

“ _Good. Because I’d miss you too much_.”

“ _I’d miss you too. Gods know why._ ”

“ _You love it when I ask you_ awkward _question about your love life._ ”

“ _That must be it_.” Gwen took another long drink.

“ _So that’s a no to having sex with your ex-fiancé …_ ”

“Oh _my gods_.” Gwen threw her hands in the air, but she was laughing. “ _No. Sex, sure. Sex would be great. But the aftermath? I’ll pass_.”

“ _Well, if you get lonely, I have it on good authority that Baylen is free_.”

“ _I hate you_ ,” Gwen said, smacking her hand into Astal’s shoulder.

“ _Love you too, darling_.”


	47. To Salt You Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all my fellow lovers of fanfic filled with emotional trauma - I'm back!

_If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life,_

_it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heart beat,_

_and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence._

_– George Eliot_

 

Soft wind blew. It smelled of pollen and spring, rich and thick and hazy. Gwen could taste it on her tongue. She tipped her head back and let the dying afternoon heat warm her. She tried not to think about anything at all.

Simple things – tendrils of wind playing in her hair, the rustling of grass waving far below, the scent of freshly tilled earth – she just wanted simple things.

Gwen craved them.

Knees curled loosely, she let the morning drain out of her. Let the twilight take it.

Dirt still marked her nails and Gwen squeezed them tight, painting lines into her palms. In the soft violet air she remembered everything, everything.

They had buried Cam’s ashes at dawn.

It fit, Gwen supposed. He liked waking up early to go on runs, claimed to love the early silence of the world. It fit. Gwen smiled to herself, fragile-like, through a glaze of tears. Because he loved morning runs.

They buried his ashes at dawn.

In cemetery of wavering green grass, old oaks whispering overhead, they dug a hole in the dirt and laid him beneath a stone slab.

_Cam Tolin, The Queen’s Guard, 25 Years Old_

_He Was Loved_

Gwen did not hear the words Fieri said. She did not hear to the sound of dirt falling – _thump, thump, thump_ – to fill the hole.  She only felt Astal’s hand gripping her own, too tight. She only knew the grief welling through her, walls of blue water.

A thousand times. I’ve lived this a thousand times before. But I never thought I’d lose you.

The lines of light make no sense in this new world.

And I don’t know how to say goodbye.

Hands in the warm dirt, fingernails digging in. Hands holding on. Hands knowing – you have to let go.

It’s time.

Goodbye, goodbye my friend. A thousand times goodbye.

\+ + +

They buried Auri at noon. Gwen and Astal, alone this time. No one else would touch his ashes. No one else.

Walking through the grasslands, back to the castle, Gwen felt the midday sun burn against her skin. That will leave a scar.

When Astal touched her shoulder, Gwen stopped, the box heavy in her arms. They dug a hole into the dry dirt, not stopping to talk or think or give memory a space to crawl in. But Gwen remembered anyway, like black water pulling her down.

He didn’t shake. She closed her eyes. Even as he walked to his death, Auri refused to show fear. Guards and soldiers filled the square, their hissing breath a low susurrus or a snake ready to bite.

_Traitor_. Gwen flinched at the chant. At the rage. _Traitor. Traitor. Traitor_. 

But Auri did not break his strides towards the dais. Not when the chanting grew louder. Not when Fieri’s naked sword flickered in the sun. Not as he ascended each step up the platform. Not as his time ran out. 

Auri did not bow his head when the guards shoved him to his knees at Fieri’s feet. He stared into her eyes as Fieri listed his crimes, and the punishment. He did not waver, until Fieri said he would be buried as a traitor, alone in an unmarked grave.

Then. Then something in his face shattered.

_So I will be alone_. Gwen saw his lips move, heard the threads of his voice in the wind.

Fieri nodded.

_Will you not reconsider_.

For a long moment, Fieri closed her eyes.

_Please. I did everything wrong but him_.

Silence. And Auri bowed his head.

The earth became so much white noise. Gwen found herself focusing on every breath in Auri’s chest. The every breath. Inhale and the exhale. Life. She focused in.

A final hush descended, filling the courtyard with a pressure denser than air. Grey buzzing. When Auri stared into Fieri’s eyes for the last time, she did not look away. Not when she raised her sword, not when she stepped forward, not when she stabbed him through the heart.

A rapid fluttering filled the courtyard, this struggling and desperate sound. Frightened.

Fieri and Auri did not break eye contact. The fluttering grew louder. Frantic.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

Auri’s eyes congealed.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

His lungs slowed.

Beat. Beat. Bea

Her sword pulled free.

And body hit the ground.

 

In the dirt, Gwen let ash pour through her fingers. A storm threatened on the horizon and she embraced the promise of thunder. Astal still refused to touch the box that held what once was Auri, and Gwen didn’t push her.

I understand. I do.

So they filled the hole with dirt and when it was done, they slowly walked away, never looking back.

Soon, Gwen held Astal’s hand tight, we can go home soon. But first, we keep one final promise.

Pushing the cemetery gate open, they walked again through tall grass, now dappled in gold. The air so thick with pollen, Gwen could taste it on her tongue. Stopping before a stone not yet beaten by weather and time, Gwen knelt, careful of the freshly dug earth.

Brushing her fingers across the inscription, Gwen said softly, “ _Hi Cam. We came back, and we brought someone. He wanted to see you again. I know things got rough there, in the end. But if you find him, out there in whatever comes next … if you find him, hold on. Just, hold on. Okay?_ ” Gwen fought her tears, gave in, let go.

Fieri granted Auri’s final request, in the end.

_I did everything wrong but him_.

“ _I miss you, I miss both of you_.”

The box, lighter now, still weighed so heavy in her arms.

“ _Here_.” Astal knelt by Gwen’s side and lifted the box from her arms. “ _Let me._ ”

Scooping up dirt, Astal created a hole beside Cam’s headstone. Just a small one, the space for a palmful of ash. Just enough. After a while, Gwen helped Astal refill the hole, cradling the dirt – warm and light – in her hands. Closing the box, Astal rested one palm on Gwen’s shoulder, one palm on the earth.

“ _Find peace_ ,” she said.

\+ + +

Knees pulled toward her chest, Gwen let the twilight rise through her. A simple, uncomplicated thing, pouring into her body. As she tipped her head back, Gwen felt the warmth of violet light against her skin.

I never want to remember. I never want to let go. Laughing and fighting and training and drinking long into the night. Two graves and dirt in my palms. I never want to forget.

But now a silence filled her, and that wasn’t a bad thing.

Soon – she would find Astal soon. They had parted in the main hall, holding each other tight before walking away.

Soon – she would find her soon. In a minute. In a moment. After twilight.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out I don't know how to count and this is actually the second to last chapter, not the third to last (I don't know how to make a shrugging emoji so pretend this is a shrugging emoji).

“Walk with me?” He asked, and she did.  

They passed through hallways and courtyards, navigating around bodies always moving somewhere else.

Not bothering to speak, they entered the castle gardens, passing underneath trellises of flowers and the limbs of trees bursting with new leaves. Still they walked. Still they were quiet. A drone of bumble bees filled air perfumed by honeysuckle. Gwen took a deep breath in. Held it. Let it fill her. Let herself be full.

They would have kept walking forever had a bee not started buzzing around Arthur’s head. Swatting at it desperately, he disappeared into a grove of trees, cursing loudly.

Once Gwen stopped laughing enough to breathe, she followed.

Ducking beneath the branches of an ancient maple, Gwen called out, “Arthur? Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Just needed to, ah, stretch my legs.”

Gwen found him leaning far too casually on the other side of the maple’s trunk. Unable to stop herself, she burst out laughing again.

When her helpless chuckling showed no signs of slowing down, Arthur asked, “Should I give you a minute to yourself?”

Wiping her eyes and taking a few deep inhales, Gwen finally said, “No. No. I’m fine. Really. I’m – ” she felt another bubble of laughter in her chest and clamped down hard, “fine.”

Arthur didn’t look convinced. “Merlin is always telling that things are fine, but then I turn around and somehow half the castle is on fire.”

“I think Merlin would use the phrase ‘controlled fire’.” Gwen couldn’t help herself.

“Controlled fire my ass,” Arthur muttered. “My clothes still smell like smoke.”

“You poor thing.” Gwen laughed and bumped her shoulder into Arthur. And the sudden, wistful look in his eyes snapped the breath from her chest. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

“I’ve missed this Gwen,” he whispered. “You and me.”

Oh no.

Arthur continued speaking, staring at the circles his boots drew in the dirt. “I’m sure you’ve heard that we’ll be going back to Camelot soon. In three days, actually. It should be a good journey, coming home in the spring.

“I know that the last time you were there – well, it didn’t go well. Did it? Terrible things happened.”

Gwen found herself nodding, remembering the smell of that dungeon and the sound of her knees cracking into the floor and the burning of everything, everything.

Gwen heard herself say, voice soft as the wind, “It was awful. What happened. Banishment almost ruined my life. Did ruin it, for a long time.”

Arthur waited a long time to speak. When he did, in a voice quiet like the dappling of sunlight, he said, “I’m sorry, Gwen. I truly am. And I understand, if you never want to come back. But – “He paused as two people strolled by on the path, talking and laughing. After the path fell silent, Arthur continued in a low register, “We miss you, Gwen. I miss you. I always missed you, even when I tried to hate you. I missed you.”

 “Arthur – ” Gwen said quickly, smelling the danger and trying to stop it all in one breath. Before it could swallow them both.

He didn’t stop, “Everyday Gwen. Everyday I miss you. That ban, it’s done, it’s gone forever. If you wanted, you could come back to Camelot with us. Come home.” He turned those diamond blue eyes on her, shinning and sharp, I could cut myself to pieces on them. I once did. “Not as my wife, or my fiancé, or my anything. Just as Gwen. Just Guinevere. Just … come back.”

“Arthur.” Gwen could hardly make the sound, not in her cobwebs for lungs. “Arthur…” And for a moment, she saw it. The future.

Going home. Seeing Camelot in springtime, and winter and summer and fall. Becoming a part of the turning of everything. Rebuilding her home. Remaking her friendships and never letting go again. Holding Arthur’s hand through the long years. Maybe one day, holding him closer. For a moment she saw it and held it, the future as bright as the sun.

But.

But.

But.

“ _Oh Arthur_.”

“I know.” Arthur’s head bowed, recognizing the finality in his own name. “I know.”

“I think I would love that. All of it. Everything.” For a moment, Arthur looked at Gwen with such hope. For a moment. “But. Camelot isn’t my home anymore. Analuan is. I can’t leave. I don’t want to leave. I miss you too.” Gwen cupped Arthur’s cheek in her palm. “And I’m going to stay.”

“I know,” he whispered against her skin, “I know.” _But I had to try_.

Her fingers caught the edges of tears. _I understand_. Leaning forward, Gwen kissed Arthur slowly, holding him tight, holding him.

Bees droned on, the air growing thicker with their weight, their sound. Flowers blossomed, blew, releasing pollen to wind. So thick, it coated the sunlight.

They might have stood like that forever. They might.

But Gwen pulled back, because it’s time to let you go. Her hand left Arthur’s skin, though they both felt its heat as a brand.

It’s time. But I’m so tired of goodbyes.

“Write to me?” Arthur said, so faint Gwen almost didn’t hear.

“Hm?”

“Write to me? Sometimes?” Arthur looked anywhere but Gwen’s eyes. “If you want. Just to talk about life, or anything. I know how hard it can be to lose people. To go on again. So if you need somebody, you can write to me.” In the amber mist holding them, reflected endlessly by grass, Gwen smiled a little, feeling something sharp and bright burn inside her chest. How I will miss you. How much.

Meeting Arthur’s eyes, brilliant blue in a world already filled by light, Gwen said, “I would love that.”


	49. Daybreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is it. We've reached the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented and generally helped me keep this story going. Writing it meant a lot to me, and I loved sharing it with all of you. 
> 
> \- Arcis

For the first time in the longest time, the courtyards and stables of Analii stood silent. The warriors were resting now. The horses had journeyed home. War had been fought, and, Gwen supposed, it had been won.

Now life picked up its fallen pieces, rebuilding the frame. Same old wood. Blurred paint.

Standing by Astal’s side, Gwen leaned against the balcony and breathed in the last heat of the day. Her eyes roved across the summer-gold fields, looking not just for light but its shadow. I am tired of closing my eyes.

I am.

Astal propped her chin in her hand, staring across the across the plains.

“ _What?_ ” Gwen murmured.

“ _Hmm?_ ”

“ _You have that look in your eyes_.”

Astal glanced over at Gwen, considering. Then back out into the golden burn. “ _I was just thinking. About what next_.”

“ _Mhm_.” Non-committal.

“ _And I don’t really want to stay here right now_.”

A flash of fear seared deep into Gwen. Don’t you leave me too. Don’t you. Mastering her voice, Gwen asked softly, “ _What do you mean?_ ”

Turning so her elbows rested on the balcony’s ledge, Astal tipped her head back, letting her braid flicker in the wind. “ _What if we left Analii for a while? Fieri’s been organizing groups to bring the people in mountains food and help them build up their villages, grow more crops. I thought, maybe we could help_.”

“ _We?_ ” Gwen said, relief making her heart beat too fast.

“ _I certainly wasn’t planning on going by myself. Besides, are you really telling me that you want to hang around here?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” Gwen replied, “ _Not really_.”

The air cooled, taking on shades of indigo and violet, but neither of them turned to go. As if the conversation had never paused, Gwen took in a long breath and said, “ _Let’s do it. Gods know it sounds better than just staying still. And I think –_ ” her fingers tangled around each other, all the complicated edges, “ _I think that Cam and Auri, I think they would like it. If we tried_.”

“ _They would_.” Gwen heard Astal’s voice reflect her own grief. In the twilight, this sorrow could at last spill outward, filling the silence. Filling and melting. Filling and pouring away.

Stars drifted out in their trillions. The heavens became a great band of light.

Standing up, Astal twined her arm with Gwen's and asked, “ _Ready?_ ”

“ _Let’s go_.”


End file.
